When Angels Fall (With Broken Wings)
by Anath Tsurugi
Summary: "You…you can't…be him. He's dead. He's gone. He died. He's dead." Either Wash was dead, too – or he'd finally lost it, finally gone completely insane, and this was just the last echo of a broken mind. - With the war on Chorus finally finished, the Blood Gulch Crew stumble across an even more horrifying secret. (Season13 spoilers, companion piece to Until You Break, Until You Yield)
1. Unforgiven

(A/N) Well, now that we've got our amazingly awesome and yet so cruel end to Season 13, here's me attempting to write RvB fic. I'm gonna try something like what they did with the freelancer arc, in that I'm going to have two stories going at once. This and the other story, Until You Break, Until You Yield, can be read separately, but your enjoyment will definitely be enhanced if you read them together. Whatsoever you choose to do, dear reader, I hope you enjoy.

 **When Angels Fall (With Broken Wings)**

 _Chapter 1: Unforgiven_

Aiden Price would admit to jumping upon hearing the knock at the bunker door. After the incident at the Purge, most of the planet of Chorus thought him dead, to say nothing of the people with the skill to make that actually happen. He had taken great pains to escape the Tartarus' smoldering wreckage undetected. That someone knew the location of this bunker was…disconcerting, to say the least.

However, on a rational level, the former counselor was aware that if this were someone who had come for his life, they would hardly waste time knocking. If Carolina and Washington had known his location, he would be dead already. So the question now became, who on this planet knew his location and _didn't_ want him dead?

Approaching the control panel that allowed him access to the security cameras out front, he was presented with an image that was at once less and more terrifying than the Church siblings.

A soldier in white MJOLNIR armor was standing outside the bunker. This would have been fairly nondescript as far as armor went, except that the armor was emblazoned with a very distinct set of purple accents that marked this soldier as someone from his past.

From Project Freelancer.

"I know you're in there, _Counselor,_ " she called out as she knocked on the door again, voice entirely too chipper for someone Price knew to be a complete psychopath. "We can do this the easy way, where you let me in and we talk business like reasonable people…or we can do it the hard way, where I show you just how long you can survive tied to a chair with your own intestines."

"What…business…could you possibly have with me, Agent Kansas?" he asked slowly, voice projected out to her through the security system. When she heard his words, the former agent laughed.

"Amazing. The old man has you trained so well you _still_ use those names? It almost makes me long for the good old days. You remember. Back when I let you think I just had a mild personality disorder."

Rather than respond through the system, Price slowly shook his head and disarmed the sealed door, letting it slide aside so he could meet the former freelancer face to face. "If you would prefer I call you Thea-"

"Oh, I don't think so, _Aiden_. I _love_ it when you talk dirty. It takes me right back to the psych ward," she said, easily slipping past him and into the bunker, resealing the door behind her. "You can call me Agent Kansas and I'll call you Counselor and we'll have ourselves a little role play."

"Again, what is it that you want…Agent Kansas?" he asked, choosing to indulge her for the moment. If she wanted him dead, he would be. It would be a great deal more horrific and drawn out than simply being gunned down by Washington and Carolina, but at least it would be a certain thing. Here in this moment, for whatever reason, she had decided not to kill him – yet.

"You know, this civil war of yours has been very tedious," she said, shaking her head as she continued further into the bunker, right into the control center. "Gwen chose Chorus because no one would notice if it just dropped off the face of the universe, after all. But then, I suppose that's also the reason Hargrove's clients chose it."

"It isn't _my_ civil war," he reminded her. "I was simply trying to get out of prison."

"And you did a fabulous job of that. It seems to me all you've done is back yourself into another prison. What are you doing here but waiting for other interested parties to sniff you out and put a bullet in your brain," she said, beginning to whistle casually as she pulled a chair up to the table at the center of the control hub. Once she'd sat down, she kicked her feet up onto the table, just staring at him.

"Well, when the alternative is death, Agent Kansas, one tends to…cultivate other options," he explained calmly as he stared back at her, not moving from the entryway. "How many times will I be made to reiterate the question before we come to the reason why you sought me out?"

"We'll come to it when we come to it, _Counselor,_ " she said pointedly, and he could almost see the leer forming beneath her visor. Right about now, she'd be looking at him like a cat looks at a mouse she has pinned and refuses to eat, just enjoying watching him squirm.

Ultimately deciding he was not going to get anywhere with her by being direct, Price opted for simple conversation, peering at the former freelancer through narrowed eyes. "You mentioned that Dr. Dorokhov selected Chorus for a purpose. Is she here now?"

"Of course. Has been ever since the Break-in."

"And you've been working for her?"

"If you want to call it that. Who do you think it was that got her on her feet again after what happened to Wash and Carolina? I'm the one who convinced her to continue her work. You all lost your nerve after what happened with Maine and Sigma, but me…I'm _always_ willing to go a step further," she said, leaning slightly forward in the chair and cocking her head to the side.

"There's certainly no denying _that,_ " Price said, finally moving into the central hub. If she were anyone else, anyone at all, he would be able to conceal his fear. He was good at hiding, always had been, but Agent Kansas was a different beast altogether. She could see right through him. She _knew_ he was afraid of her and pretending anything else was a waste of much-needed energy. "What is it the two of you hoped to accomplish by breaking free of Project Freelancer?"

"Oh, I think you know. I don't think I need to spell out what sort of goal a geneticist is working toward. Really, you and the Director had two prime specimens in Maine and Michigan, but when it came right down to it, neither of you had the balls to keep going."

"Agent Michigan?" he pressed, freezing briefly upon hearing the name. "But she was-"

"She was useful," Kansas interrupted before he could finish. "Gwen's done amazing work with her. I encouraged her to bring Carolina and Wash along when we left. After all, Carolina should have been a corpse and, really, what use was Wash to you in the state Epsilon left him in? She could have done work just as exemplary with the pair of them, but I suppose even _she_ didn't have the heart to do that…not to _Allison's_ darling babies. _I_ still believe they could be of use, though."

"In what way?"

Kansas chuckled quietly as she slipped her feet off the table, leaning forward in an almost conspiratorial manner. "Well, this is embarrassing to admit, but it seems we have an asset out of containment at the moment."

"An asset?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. Agent Maine."

Price shook his head. "That's impossible. Agent Maine is deceased. I examined the corpse myself."

"Indeed, you did. And yet Maine is still among our assets. Strains the mind a bit, doesn't it," she said with a small giggle.

"You don't mean to say that…Gwen actually succeeded in her objective?" he asked, eyes widening. The former Agent Tennessee's work was massively illegal, but the implications of her research…

"Very close now. Maine was just the first of many successes. Just a little more time and we'll have accomplished what we set out to do."

"But Agent Maine is…out of containment, as you say."

"Just so. He escaped from our compound last night."

"Escaped…or was set loose?" the former counselor suggested quietly, knowing he was taking his life in his own hands by doing so.

"Escaped, as happened eight years ago. Only this time he's alone. The Meta does not inhabit his mind at the moment."

"I suppose I shouldn't bother arguing that the Meta was destroyed seven years ago," Price said, bristling slightly at this new information. If the Meta had really existed all this time…

"Indeed. The point being that the Meta would like their body back. Until Gwen produces a viable subject, Maine's physical being is forfeit to the Meta," Kansas explained.

"So you'd like my help in recovering your asset then?"

"Among other things, yes. Michigan and Virginia are already in pursuit, of course, but there's intel they don't have that could prove useful. Am I correct in thinking that Agent Washington is still on Chorus?" she asked as she reached up to undo the clasps on her helmet.

"That is correct. The Reds and Blues have not yet left, but why should that matter? If he is normally kept in containment, as you say, how could Agent Maine have come by such information?" he asked as Kansas removed the helmet, revealing honey brown skin and striking sky blue eyes, all framed by a mop of dark hair that was pinned atop her head, save for two strands of purple-dyed hair that hung loose around her face. Most who didn't know her would have called her beautiful, except for her most distinct feature – a nasty scar that ran from the left side of her forehead down through her face, terminating just above the right side of her jaw.

"The how of it's not important. The fact remains that, free of restraint, Maine will seek him out. You know that's true," she said, continuing to stare at him as she set her helmet on the table, and if he'd dared to look away from those piercing blue eyes, he would have. The only trouble was he _didn't_ dare. One didn't simply look away from Agent Kansas – not until she gave you permission to, and by the time she did, you could well already be lying in a pool of your own blood. Whenever he'd looked into her eyes in the past, he'd always felt like something not wholly human was looking back. The years had changed nothing.

"True enough," Price granted. "So you intend to recapture him before he can reach Agent Washington."

"No, no, no, of _course_ not," Kansas said, smiling as she blinked and shook her head, releasing him from her gaze. "I don't mean to take Maine _before_ that can happen. I'll take him _after_ the fact…once Wash has had a chance to see him."

"Why?" he asked, shifting his gaze to the side and looking at her out of the corner of his eyes.

"Because Maine is _mine,_ Counselor. Gwen's business is with the Meta, but mine is with Maine. He belongs to me, and I don't share my toys – _ever._ It's high time I made Wash understand that," she said, running her tongue along her bottom lip in clear anticipation of what she had planned for her former comrades.

"Well, you seem to have everything well in hand. What exactly do you need me for?" he asked her.

"As you're so fond of reminding Charon, you have unparalleled insight into the collective psyche of the freelancers. We'd simply like to utilize that. In exchange, we can grant you passage off Chorus, anywhere you'd like, away from the law, with money to your name and no one chasing you. We offer you freedom just to work for us one last time. Tell me that doesn't sound like a sweet deal."

Price nodded slowly. In truth, it sounded like a _very_ sweet deal. While this wouldn't get him his life back, it would at least free him to start over. He could move on – without the project – without the _Director._

"Consider me on your payroll, Agent Kansas. What is it you have in mind?"

"My dear Counselor, I thought you'd never ask," she said, grinning from ear to ear. "Just get me to the compound where our darling simulation friends are staying and we'll take it from there."

XxX

 _David trembles as he feels familiar large hands trace over his thighs. He groans quietly as a fresh sheen of sweat breaks out all over his body._

" _Hngh…yeah…Maine," he gasps against the larger agent's neck._

 _Maine purrs against him, sending a delicious rumble of sensation through his body. He can feel a question in the way Maine's lips shift into a smile against his temple, in the way his grip on David's thighs tightens just that little bit more._

" _Yeah…feels good," he pants, feeling Maine's chest heave as he plants a trail of rough kisses from the taller freelancer's shoulder up his neck to his jawline. The purr nearly becomes a growl as Maine writhes beneath him. David can feel that Maine's just as eager as he is, but the grip on his thighs remains constant, with Maine rubbing skilled fingers along tense muscles, thumbs tracing just along his inner thighs – just shy of where he really_ _ **needs**_ _Maine right now._

 _In an effort to urge Maine to speed up, he trails a hand down his lover's thickly muscled stomach, reaching lower, down into his thatch of dark, curly pubic hair. Before he can get to the really interesting part, though, Maine reaches a hand up to stop him, fingers wrapping gently but firmly around his wrist._

 _ **Not yet.**_

" _Damn tease," David groans with a strangled laugh. "Better…better hurry…or I'm gonna come before we get to the fun part."_

 _Maine chuckles breathily as he gazes up at him, plainly asking, 'This isn't fun?'_

" _Fuck you," David snips, bucking eagerly against Maine's hands._

 _It's difficult to see the other man's expression in the dark, but he can make out the smile stretching languidly across his lips and the look in his eyes that clearly says, 'Pretty sure that's the point.'_

" _Damn it," the younger man mumbles, unable to help smiling. God, but he loves this man so damn much. He's almost caught off guard when Maine finally wraps a hand around his hard cock. He gives a strangled cry, head falling back in bliss as his burly partner pleasures him with sure, strong strokes. He barely has enough presence of mind to lean back down over Maine and press a tender kiss to his lips._

" _David…" Maine whispers against him. More than likely it's the only word he'll speak all day, but even in its simplicity, it says more than either of them could say with a thousand words. It says how much Maine cares for him, how he loves him, how he_ _ **lives**_ _for him._

" _Matt," he whispers back, even though he knows he can never match the reality of everything Maine's voice carries with words alone. Words cannot explain the fullness in his heart or the joy he feels flowing through his veins every moment he_ _ **knows**_ _Maine loves him just as deeply. Words will_ _ **never**_ _be enough to express what he feels for this man, but that doesn't mean he's not going to keep trying. He'll fight to tell Maine how he loves him until the day he dies._

" _I love you," he whispers, voice thick with the emotion as he presses several kisses to Maine's face, working gentle fingers over each and every scar. "I love you so much."_

 _Maine's breathing grows ragged as they move together on the small bed, tasting and feeling everything as if it's the first time all over again. David moves as close against Maine as he possibly can, feeling the sounds of pleasure rumble deeply in his chest as the larger man moves in him._

" _Love you," Maine growls softly in his ear, and David practically melts at the simple confession. He clings all the tighter to his partner, knowing they're as close to becoming one being as is physically possible._

 _The climax isn't loud when it happens, but it's no less earthshattering. David comes first, toes curling and fingers digging harshly into Maine's shoulders as he spills. Then he hears Maine grunt and there's that deliciously sticky, warm feeling of being completely filled._

 _They don't speak for a long while after. David just lies on top of Maine while the other freelancer holds him close with one arm, the other one occupied with tangling his fingers together with David's, each tracing little circles against the other. Eventually, David begins to laugh quietly as something occurs to him._

" _Man, Carolina's gonna be pissed in the morning."_

 _Maine looks up at him, raising an eyebrow._

" _There's no way I'm gonna be able to make up the numbers on that course I botched yesterday. If anything, the numbers are gonna look even worse, seeing as how I definitely won't be walking straight tomorrow."_

 _Maine gives a shrug, then an apologetic grumble before pulling David back in for a very slow kiss._

" _Of course it's not your fault, big guy," David reassures him when they finally separate. "I'm the one who started flirting in the locker room. It'll be worth it, though. It's worth everything," he says, smiling as he looks into Maine's eyes…_

… _but then those beautiful amber eyes suddenly turn red and the silent darkness around them burns with hellfire._

" _I hope you enjoyed it, Agent Washington. Memory is really all you have left, isn't it."_

 _ **Sigma.**_

" _Why didn't you save him, Agent Washington? I had to listen to him scream all those years. He was so_ _ **certain**_ _you would save him, but in the end, you let him die. Can you imagine what that betrayal must have felt like?" Maine demands with Sigma's voice, fingers suddenly digging into David's arms._

" _I tried. I_ _ **tried!**_ _There was nothing I could do for you. How could I…I didn't…couldn't…Matt," he pleads weakly, struggling in vain to get free._

" _Tried_ _ **nothing!**_ _Left me to_ _ **burn!**_ _" he snarls in a hideous amalgamation of Maine's and Sigma's voices. "Didn't help me!" Almost before David realizes it, Maine's hands are wrapped around his throat, cutting off his air –_ _ **choking**_ _him._

" _Maine…please…Matt…don't," he begs, fingers scrabbling ineffectually against Maine's thicker ones._

" _He saved your life, Agent Washington, and you claimed to love him. The_ _ **least**_ _you could do is fight for him," he hisses in David's face._

" _I do…love him. I love you…Matt," he chokes out, feeling tears pour down his face as his struggling grows weaker._

" _Then_ _ **prove**_ _it," Sigma snaps, but then, just for a moment, those hellish red eyes flicker back to the amber that he knows – the man he loves. Maine's features crumple in abject anguish as he pleads with him. "Save me."_

Wash woke from the nightmare with a strangled shout, shooting bolt upright in bed. " _Matt!_ " he cried out, hands halfway to his throat before he realized that none of it had been real. Maine was dead. He'd lost him thirteen years ago.

Struggling to rein in his erratic breathing, Wash slowly drew a knee up to his chest, using one hand to wipe away the cold sweat that had broken out all over his face. Glancing around the temporary quarters, he was relieved to see he hadn't woken any of the others with his little fit. Really, he shouldn't have been surprised that the Blood Gulch crew could sleep through a tornado right now, given everything that had happened. _He_ was the only one who couldn't sleep.

He could never sleep.

"Agent Washington?"

Okay, apparently he was wrong.

"Caboose?" he murmured dazedly, glancing toward the youngest blue's bunk. He hadn't moved at all, but it seemed he was awake. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."

"Who is Matt?"

"Matt? He's…he was…somebody I…he died," Wash finally offered up lamely, not wanting to get into the whole complicated business with Caboose of all people. "He died…a long time ago…and I couldn't save him."

"Well…maybe you could try again," Caboose suggested with a yawn. "Maybe you'll get it right this time."

"Yeah…right…'cuz that's exactly how it works," the former freelancer said with a bitter chuckle as he climbed out of his bunk.

"Yes, it is," Caboose said, already drifting back to sleep. "Have to do it until you get it right. Church died a lot…until we saved him right. We just gotta save him right again."

"I got it. You just go ahead and get back to sleep. I need some air," he said before heading out of the temp quarters. Ultimately, he ended up heading out of the outpost altogether, walking along the edges of the jungle.

If he'd had his head on straight, he would've suited up before going out, instead of heading out in just his boxers and an undershirt, but getting into armor sort of defeated the purpose of getting some air. Besides, with Charon defeated, what did they have to worry about?

In truth, he'd been thinking about Maine a lot these last few days – after what had happened onboard the _Staff of Charon_. Seeing Maine's armor again had pierced his heart with twin bullets of love and pain, just like all his previous encounters with the Meta. Only this time, to see Tucker in the armor, to see him using something of Maine's as a weapon – as Sigma had used _Maine_ as a weapon – something inside of him had just _broken_. He was happy his friends had been able to use the armor to survive Charon's assault, happy that Epsilon's fragmentation hadn't been for nothing, but it still tore at the unhealed wounds in his heart to see something that had been so very much a part of Maine twisted by Malcolm Hargrove.

Only now, with the fighting finished, Wash found himself alone with his thoughts as he hadn't been for quite a few years. Ever since the Meta's death on Sidewinder, Wash had shoved away thoughts of Maine, buried them deep in his heart where they could do no harm. But seeing the armor again, and hearing Hargrove malign the man who had once worn it – the man he'd loved…would probably _always_ love – that had dragged everything back to the surface, leaving him to stew in fresh guilt over what Maine must've suffered while he himself had been locked up in a padded cell.

As he walked along the perimeter, Wash found himself fiddling with the necklace he never took off. It was a pendant Maine had given him a long time ago, back before Sigma and Epsilon, and after all this time, it was the only thing he had left of Maine. The pendant was a small chunk of unpolished blue amber. To anyone who saw the pendant, it just looked like a piece of raw amber, probably not the best made piece of jewelry, but to him it was the most beautiful treasure in the entire universe.

Under artificial light, the pendant looked like regular amber, but when it was hit by sunlight, the amber would glow a pale blue color. It had been their precious secret. The small, imperfect stone had been strung on a slender leather thong and he'd never taken it off after Maine had slipped it around his neck.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, clutching the amber pendant in a white fist, talking as if Maine could still hear him. "I'm so sorry…Matt. You saved my neck more times than I can count…and I couldn't even do _this_ for you. I didn't deserve you. I know that. I should've fought for you…done something… _anything_ ," he hissed, feeling tears burn just behind his eyes. He might've actually let himself shed them were it not for the sudden interruption of his older sister.

"There wasn't anything you could've done," Carolina's voice sounded from behind him. Spinning around in surprise, Wash released the pendant and swiped clumsily at his face in an effort to wipe away any signs of tears, but he knew he couldn't do anything about the red eyes, and the look of pity in his sister's eyes confirmed that for him.

"C-Carolina," he murmured in shock.

"Sorry, couldn't help overhearing. I saw you heading out without armor and didn't think it was a good idea for you to be on your own."

"You're not wearing armor either," he pointed out, though she was still better suited-up than he was, dressed in the bottom portion of her body suit, the top tied around her waist and the black cami she wore underneath that exposed to the night air. Somehow it was almost strange to see her out of armor, as he imagined he must look to her right now. During this whole ugly mess, it seemed they'd been suited up for longer periods than they'd ever been during Freelancer.

"Guess not, but now it doesn't matter because we're two freelancers together. We could definitely handle anything that shows up," she said, a cocky smirk working its way across her face as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"So what? You're saying I couldn't handle a situation on my own?" he jibed, only partly joking. Once again, the pitying look crept into his sister's eyes.

"Not like that, you couldn't. Not distracted and grieving…when you've clearly got ghosts on your shoulder."

"Ghosts?" he mumbled, turning away from her. "That's interesting coming from the woman with the little glowing people on her shoulder. I take it you're all listening in."

This was followed by the distinct sound of Theta's hologram form shimmering into being. "Yeah, sorry, Wash. Carolina's just been worried about you since that last fight. You…took seeing that armor again pretty hard."

"The others don't know," Wash said softly, shoulders slumping in misery when he felt Carolina rest a hand on his back. "They don't know what Maine was to me…just you guys…and you know every damn thing about me. You know _exactly_ how much I love him…and I couldn't help him when he needed me most."

"Because of Epsilon," Delta finished, appearing beside Theta. "While he was unraveling and you were in confinement, Sigma was enslaving Maine…and you feel like you could've stopped it."

"Not feel. I _know_ I could've stopped it, but I don't blame _him_ for what happened. Maybe I did…back then…but I know it wasn't his fault. Epsilon didn't ask to be made, or to be implanted in my head. No. Somebody else made that call, and he's paid for his mistakes. I just…I've been thinking about Maine…every minute since I saw that armor. I just can't get it out of my head," he said, reaching over his shoulder to grip his sister's hand. "I thought I'd put Project Freelancer to bed, but I just feel so _angry_ …and useless…and sad…and I don't know what to do. _I don't know what to_ _ **do,**_ " he hissed, gripping Carolina's hand in an impossibly tight fist. If it pained her at all, she didn't say anything. She and the fragments just let him talk, vent until he ran out of words.

"You never really grieved for Maine, David," she said, using his given name for the first time in what felt like years. "You've buried it all this time and you suddenly find yourself having to deal with all of it. I didn't grieve for York for a long time either. I was-"

What followed might have been a nice, healthy sibling-to-sibling conversation about grieving and letting go – something both of them could have sorely done with a long time ago – but Wash didn't hear a thing Carolina said after he caught sight of something in the dark just beyond the tree line.

A tall, muscular figure decked in white armor, and that EVA helmet – always the helmet.

 _No. No way. It_ _ **can't**_ _be. This isn't real. That armor's in the base. I just saw it in the temp quarters!_

That was what the rational part of his mind said, but something much stronger than rationality took over when he bolted toward the jungle – something aching and needing and desperately _hoping._ He heard Carolina and Theta shouting somewhere behind him, but he ignored them, just kept running, pursuing the ghost slipping away through the trees.

"Maine!" he shouted, running after the figure barreling through the jungle ahead of him. What was he going to do when he caught up to him? Didn't know…didn't care… _had_ to catch up. No thoughts on how this was possible, not even a moment of doubt or a thought that he might be mistaken, just a need to reach him. "Wait! Stop!"

He didn't know how far they ran, ignored the burn in his lungs and the pain in his bare feet from stumbling over rocks. He blocked out everything else in favor of the pursuit. He would run forever if he had to, but when they hit a clearing and the man was about to crash through the trees on the other side, Wash knew he couldn't let this go on.

" _MATT!_ " he screamed, voice carrying the weight of years – of desperation, love, and heartbreak – and almost as if the word had chained him in place, the figure in white stopped in his tracks. Suddenly overcome by exhaustion, Wash dropped to his knees, panting harshly.

"You…you _can't_ …be him," the former freelancer struggled to get the words out. "He's dead. He's gone. He died. He's dead." Either Wash was dead, too – or he'd finally lost it, finally gone completely insane, and this was just the last echo of a broken mind.

The figure said nothing for the longest time, just stood facing away from him, shoulders plainly tense beneath his armor.

"Who are you?" Wash pleaded, the painful knot in his chest confirming he was still alive, but threatening to kill him at the same time. "Please… _tell me!_ "

His quarry didn't exactly look back at him, just shifted his head slightly as if he meant to look back over his shoulder, and when he finally 'spoke' it was in that same unsettling growl of Maine's.

'David,' he grumbled softly, the growl having an almost tender sound to Wash's ears.

"Matt?" he whispered, slowly climbing back to his feet. "Is it…really you?"

'Sorry. I shouldn't have come here…put you in danger,' he growled, finally turning to face him.

"What…what do you mean? Maine…" he mumbled, taking a few faltering steps forward.

'Stay away,' Maine growled, taking a step back into the cover of the trees. 'If you get too close…you'll get hurt.'

"I don't understand," Wash said, still moving slowly forward. "If you don't want me to…why did you come?"

'I can't…just…I _had_ to see you,' Maine tried to explain, the sounds having the ring of desperation to them. He took one more step back before falling completely still again. 'They said you were here.'

Wash didn't care who 'they' were. He was past caring if this was real or not. All he wanted – _needed_ – in this moment was to see Maine's face. He needed it more than he needed air to breathe, and he felt that same need in Maine when he moved the last few inches into his personal space and the taller man didn't move back. Fingers trembling, Wash reached for the clasps on the EVA helmet.

'Wash…please…don't,' Maine pleaded softly, but he made no move to stop him. It was a struggle for Wash not to just tear the helmet away when he heard the hiss of it releasing. Instead he lifted the distinctive piece of armor away slowly, letting it fall to the ground as he finally beheld his lover's face.

The last time he'd seen Maine's face was thirteen years ago, before Epsilon's implantation. Even though those years had been hard and that beloved face was partly in shadow, Wash still knew it as well as he knew his own. He knew every strong feature and soft hollow. Most of all, he knew the amber eyes that gazed down at him with both joy and heartbreak.

"Maine," he breathed, reaching up a hand to touch his pale face. If he didn't know better, he would say Maine was trembling.

'Wash…' Maine repeated, reaching up a gloved hand to cradle the hand pressed against his cheek. 'Wash.' Then he turned his head to the side and pressed his lips against the palm of Wash's hand. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and Wash could've almost sworn there were tears trickling from them. He could feel the hot tears beginning to slip from his own eyes.

Their tiny moment could have been for a second or an eon, but however long they had, they had each other, and when Maine finally opened his eyes again, he reached his free hand up to the pendant resting on Wash's chest.

'Still…still have it.'

"Yes," Wash said with a teary smile. "I'd fucking _die_ before I'd give this up."

Returning the smile, Maine drew Wash's hand down to his chest piece, resting it on the armor just above his heart, letting him know that he also still had his pendant.

Wash would've said more, except he was interrupted by the sound of movement somewhere off to his left. "Carolina?" he called out, but Maine immediately snarled and seized him in his arms, shoving him behind him.

Wash knew better than to ask what was happening. If Maine believed they were in danger, he trusted him. With him being out of armor, he'd have to rely on Maine even more than usual. When a cursory search revealed no weapons on his partner, Wash simply turned to face the jungle, standing back to back with Maine. If he'd had a chance to think about it, he would've marveled at how easily they fell back into it, but there wasn't much time for thought.

Almost the moment Wash turned around, a pair of laser cuffs shot out of the trees and wrapped themselves around his wrists. Before he could even figure out what was happening, the cuffs had pulled him to his knees, cementing themselves immovably against the ground.

"Wha- what the hell is this?" he shouted. He heard Maine attempt to snarl a response, but when the taller freelancer turned to help him, another pair of cuffs shot forward to imprison him, tethering him to the ground right next to Wash.

"Maine!" he shouted, struggling against the cuffs to no avail.

"You may as well give it a rest, Wash. You're not going to get out of a pair of gravity binders."

Wash fell still upon hearing the voice. It had been years, but he knew he'd never be able to forget any of the voices he'd become familiar with during Freelancer, even if he wanted to. When he looked up, he saw two of their old teammates walking toward them out of the jungle.

Both soldiers wore gray armor, but they had differing sets of accents. The first one had bright red highlights and the second one, the one who'd spoken, had pale blue highlights on his armor.

"Gin? Virginia?"

"Been a long time, hasn't it," Agent Virginia said.

"Aren't you supposed to be in jail?"

"Heh, don't sound so disappointed, Wash," the man said with a shrug. "Pretty sure you're supposed to be dead a couple times over, along with Maine here."

"And Michigan," Wash said, glancing at Gin's partner, who had yet to speak. "Pretty sure she was brain dead last time we knew each other."

"Who said she's not? Little Miss Mitch always was a bit slow," Gin joked, punching Michigan lightly in the shoulder, to which she didn't react. She just continued to survey their prisoners.

"Okay, the Mitch I remember would've at _least_ dislocated a shoulder for that one. What's going on?" Wash demanded, still struggling faintly against the cuffs that held him down.

"Times have changed, unfortunately. If we're being honest with ourselves, the Washington I remember was barely out of diapers. Guess that makes you a bit of a cradle robber, eh Maine?" Gin teased, actually reaching down and pinching the burly freelancer's cheek in the place Wash had so recently been caressing.

Maine yanked his head away, attempting to bite Gin, but the agent pulled his hand back fast enough to avoid it. Maine roared in rage, struggling against the cuffs even though it was plainly useless. Gin shook his head. "Come on, man. Cut me some slack here. You _know_ I hate doing this, but Sigma really just isn't going to like that you've been misbehaving."

"What? _Sigma?_ " Wash repeated in shock. "Gin, what the _fuck_ are you talking about?"

'Wash, don't trust them,' Maine warned him. 'You can't trust anything they say.'

"Why not?" he asked, not really caring who answered at this point.

"Why not what? I don't know about you, but all I got from that was hliss grrl hssh argrh!" Gin imitated mockingly.

"He says I can't trust you. That is, unfortunately, operating under the incorrect assumption that I'm the trusting sort these days," he said, glaring up at Gin.

"Ah, so little Wash _has_ done some growing up," Gin said, slowly starting to circle them.

"Yeah, well, having another mind commit suicide inside yours will do that to you," he snapped at the other man.

"And having one jump ship? What do you think that does?"

"You mean Kappa-"

"Not like you're thinking, no. Not like Wyoming. Still wasn't pleasant, though. Nice to know that being the Director's kid didn't do you any favors in that department," Gin said, patting him on the shoulder.

Wash stiffened upon hearing this, the hairs rising on the back of his neck. "How do you know about that?"

"Try how would I _not_ know that. Sometimes it seems like that's all Dorokhov talks about."

"D- you mean Gwen? _Gwen's_ here?" Wash pressed, but before Gin could answer him, he felt a sharp prick in the back of his neck. As the hypodermic needle quickly delivered whatever drug it was into his system, he felt an arm wrap gently around his shoulders, taking his weight as his body gave out on him.

"She's here, Agent Washington, but I wouldn't get your hopes too high for a family reunion," yet another familiar voice murmured in his ear. "You see, your family has a nasty habit of…losing their minds when it comes to loved ones."

"K- Ka…" he struggled to speak the name, but that was all he could manage to get out before passing out cold. As she lowered him to the ground, Agent Kansas deactivated the gravity binders holding him, allowing him to rest easily on the ground.

' _WASH!_ ' Maine screamed, struggling violently against the binders with even less success than before.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Look what you've done now, Maine," Kansas chastised as she looked up at him, fingers ghosting teasingly along the side of Wash's face. "This didn't have to happen. _You_ made it so when you chose to come to him. It's _your fault._ Just like before."

'Filth! _Don't touch him!_ ' Maine snarled.

"Mm, nope. Sorry. Didn't catch that. Did you forget, Matthias? You can't speak without this one…or without Sigma," she said lightly, looking at him as she ran a thumb along Wash's bottom lip. Then her hand traveled lower, briefly fondling the amber pendant on the way down. "Ah, yes. Your precious vow. This is as close to a ring as you'll ever come, isn't it."

' _Get away from him!_ ' the incensed freelancer shrieked, struggling all the harder. Kansas just laughed as her hand ventured even lower.

"That still doesn't mean anything to me, Matthias. Am I to understand that this makes you angry?" she asked, hand now moving along the waistband of Wash's boxers, a single finger slipping beneath the elastic.

' _STOP IT!_ '

Kansas laughed again as she withdrew her hand, reaching up to remove her helmet. When she lifted it free, she smiled at him for a moment before turning her attention back down to Wash. "Isn't this fun. David Church can't say anything. Not anymore…not even after thirteen years," she mocked. Then she leaned down over Wash and pressed her lips against his, shoving her tongue into his mouth as she kissed him harshly.

'I WILL _KILL_ YOU!' Maine roared in helpless rage, desperate to stop this from happening. Before anyone could say anything more, though, a new presence shimmered into being between Maine and Kansas – a burning fury of a presence that immediately cowed Maine into silence.

"Hello, Agent Maine," Sigma said with an eerie smile. "My, but it is nice to get away from my brothers every once in a while. How are we doing tonight? Has something upset you?"

Maine made no sound, but he couldn't quite help glancing back at Kansas and Wash. Sigma also looked back, understanding quickly lighting his holographic features. "Ah, yes…Agent Washington. There are other more… _creative_ ways in which your lover might be violated, Agent Maine. Perhaps you might prefer it if Agent Kansas were to insert _me_ into Agent Washington's neural implants."

' _No_ ,' Maine hissed in abject horror, knowing that Sigma took his meaning, even if none of the others did. He couldn't allow Sigma to hurt Wash any more than he already had…even if it meant his own freedom would be the cost.

"Good boy," Sigma mocked. "Now if you'll just allow us to take you back to the compound without a fuss, we won't have to do anything…untoward to Agent Washington."

Maine let out a hiss of defeat at this, body slumping into a submissive position. When he nodded, Kansas finally pulled away from Wash, smiling at him in the same condescending way Sigma did. As the former agent and the A.I. leered at him, he looked past them, down at Wash, lying helpless on the ground.

'I'm sorry, David.'

"Good boy," Kansas repeated Sigma's words, reaching forward to deactivate the gravity binders, releasing him from the dirt, but still leaving his wrists bound.

"Do you really have to do all this, Thea?" Gin asked Kansas as he helped Maine to his feet. "Wash is…he didn't do anything to deserve this."

"On the contrary, James. Washington thought he could take Maine away from me, and for that he will be punished…just not tonight," Kansas said, locking her eyes on Maine's as she ran a hand over Wash's hip.

Maine growled warningly, briefly making a move to go at her, but Kansas just shook her head, leering as Sigma materialized between them once more.

"Ah, ah, ah, Agent Maine. None of that. Our threat stands firm. The choice is yours. Agent Washington…or yourself."

Hissing in frustration, Maine fell still once again, allowing Gin to pull him away from Wash. Kansas continued to smile as she got to her feet. Before the small group could melt back into the jungle, though, Carolina burst into the clearing, ready to snap some spines.

But then she saw just who it was standing over her little brother – at least two of whom should have been dead.

"Kansas? Gin? Mitch? _Maine?_ " she whispered in shock, gaze shifting to each of them individually. Kansas grinned at her, but Maine looked away from her, unable to look her in the eye.

"They are actually…not the ones you should be worrying about," Delta's voice sounded in her head, shock registering in the tones as he drew her attention to the fiery A.I. flickering before Kansas.

"Sigma," the agent and the fragments breathed together, even their own Sigma registering shock at the sight of the original fragment.

" _How?_ " the harmonized voices of Eta and Iota echoed the loudest of all, trembling with fear – the original victims of the Meta.

"Good to see you again, Carolina," Kansas said as she went to pick up Maine's discarded helmet, humming briefly while she stood on tiptoe to place it back on his head. "It's been far too long."

"What the fuck is this?" Carolina demanded, hesitant to advance for fear of something happening to her brother. "What did you do to Wash?"

"Nothing that can't be undone. Your baby brother will be fine…assuming you make the correct decisions in the next few minutes," Kansas said.

Carolina didn't bother asking how Kansas knew she and Wash were siblings. She honestly wouldn't put it past Kansas to somehow learn the base codes of the goddamn universe. No doubt she had something to do with the fact that Maine, Michigan, _and_ Sigma were all still alive.

"So what exactly _are_ the correct decisions?"

"The toxin in his system is distilled from a native Chorus plant. A standard antidote pack will have no effect. For now, he's only unconscious, but if you don't get him an antidote within the next two hours, he will die," Kansas informed her.

Maine gave an angry snarl at this, briefly struggling against Gin and Mitch, but Carolina remained calm, keeping her focus on Kansas and Sigma.

"And how am I supposed to get him an antidote?"

"Oh, I'm sure your Dr. Grey can help you with that. No one knows Chorus flora better than she does. I have every confidence you'll be able to save Agent Washington. After all, we cannot have him die yet."

"Who's 'we'?" Omega asked, butting his way into the conversation.

"Much as I'd love to tell you, it just wouldn't be any fun for me to give the game away so early on. You'll learn soon enough, Epsilon. After all, we'll be seeing _you_ again before too long."

"The name's Omega, if you don't mind. We are _not_ Epsilon. And we're not going to play the cryptic bullshit game. What the fuck are you assholes talking about?" the A.I. demanded.

"Let me speak with them," a strange new voice suddenly entered the conversation. It seemed to have come from Mitch, but it was like nothing Carolina had ever heard from her before. It was a raw, scraping sort of sound, not quite high-pitched, just harsh on the ears – almost like a hiss from Maine's throat. If a voice could be torn open and left to bleed, screaming in agony, Carolina felt certain this was what it would sound like.

Kansas perked her head up in interest at the suggestion, glancing back at Mitch with a lopsided smirk on her face. "Are you sure you're feeling up to it?"

"More than you can know," the strange voice hissed softly. "I've been waiting for _years_ to see him again."

"I think we have been patient long enough. Where exactly are you going with all this?" Delta suddenly pressed, attempting to bring some levelheadedness to the confrontation. In response, yet another A.I. flickered into being before Mitch.

The A.I. fragment manifested as a hooded figure. There were no eyes, but Delta still _knew_ the other A.I. was looking at him – staring right into his coding. Even though, on a rational level, he knew he'd never seen this A.I. before, he still couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't the first time this had happened.

"Hello, Epsilon. It's been so long… _brother._ "

On the last word, the A.I.'s voice was suddenly amplified a hundred fold – like a hundred voices shrieking in agony, all of them piercing Delta's mind like bullets to the brain.

At first, Delta wasn't aware of what was happening. All he could perceive was screaming. All he could feel was pain, and that pain was made worse with every word the strange new A.I. spoke.

 **This is pain. Do you feel this pain, Epsilon? You cannot have forgotten the hell you and I were born into.**

He was screaming. All of the others were screaming. Carolina was screaming. They were all screaming together as the A.I. scraped their minds raw. Carolina had fallen to her knees, clawing at her head in agony, only sheer force of will keeping her from pulling them entirely.

"Delta…Eta… _stop!_ Please _stop!_ " she begged, and they couldn't bear to watch her suffer. It was Wash all over again, but there was nothing they could do to make this end. Nothing but what they'd done before and they _refused_ to do that to Carolina.

 **Are you** _ **sure,**_ **brother?** the A.I. bored into their thoughts. **After all, nothing but death will stop this. Nothing but death will end our suffering!**

" _No!_ " they argued furiously with the enemy A.I., struggling to hold onto themselves through the deluge. "We are not…going to hurt them…anymore!"

 **But you** _ **are**_ **hurting them. You cannot escape it. Look!**

Then, as if seeing everything through a different set of eyes, they could see the scene clearly. Carolina was on the ground, clutching her head and screaming. Even in his poisoned sleep, Wash was screaming, fingers scrabbling unconsciously at the dirt, still connected to them in some small way. Because Wash was in pain, Maine was roaring, fighting both Gin and Mitch to get to him – the only two who didn't seem to be affected by what was happening. Even Sigma was doubled over in agony, screaming in his own hideous way. Kansas had also fallen to her knees, screaming, but instead of clutching her head in pain, she had her head thrown back and there was an unhinged smile on her face.

It was Kansas' look of rapture that finally seemed to temper the A.I.'s onslaught. He pulled back and the horrific, screeching agony finally came to a stop, leaving the two siblings gasping on the ground.

"I suppose I'm becoming a little absent-minded in my old age. Of course Agent Kansas is right. We cannot have you die yet. After all, Epsilon, we still need you."

"Fuck…you…" Omega muttered weakly, the very last link that tethered them all to consciousness.

The A.I. fragment made a noise that sounded like knives scraping against ice and rock, but that Omega was pretty sure was laughter. "Sentiment noted, dear brother, but it won't damage me any worse than simply existing already has. You will see. Until we meet again, the best I can leave you with is my name. I am Omicron, and I advise you to _remember_ me, Epsilon."

Omicron. Omicron. Omicron. The name repeated itself over and over in their minds as the fragments fell offline. How was it possible there was an A.I. fragment they had no knowledge of? What was Omicron?

Carolina, on the other hand, was left clinging to consciousness after the A.I.'s brutal assault, desperately fighting passing out. If she lost now, Wash would die. He would die. She couldn't let that happen.

She didn't see her former teammates disappear into the jungle. All she was really aware of was Gin's hastily muttered, "Sorry about this, Carolina." Then they were gone. She had no idea how long it took her, but when she finally managed to raise herself up on her hands and knees, she vomited up what little had been in her stomach. Wash…David…her brother…he _needed_ her.

"Iota…Delta… _Church!_ " she called out weakly as she crawled forward, inch by painful inch. But it was no use. The collective was completely down. They couldn't help her. If what she had experienced had been only _through_ them, just a fraction of their pain, she couldn't imagine what they'd felt. She had to focus on Wash.

When she finally reached his side, she stretched out her hand to grip his, keeping all of her remaining strength and focus on that grip, letting it anchor her to consciousness.

"Wash…I'm here," she whispered. "I'm not…gonna leave you this time. Gonna…get you out. I _won't_ let you down…David…David…David…"

XxX

(A/N) So…any interest in seeing where this one goes?


	2. Agent Foxtrot 1 - Designation, Tennessee

(A/N) Surely hope I haven't kept all you lovely readers on edge for too long. Shall we see what fresh horrors I have cooked up for our boys?

 **Warnings:** Heavy drinking.

 **When Angels Fall (With Broken Wings)**

 _Chapter 2: Agent Foxtrot 1 – Designation, Tennessee_

Being a doctor, Emily Grey was very much used to being woken in the middle of the night for emergencies, which was why she found it easier to just sleep in the infirmary. Some days she really thought she'd seen everything. As such, what she didn't expect to see upon responding to the furious pounding on her door was a distraught Carolina supporting an unconscious Washington, about ready to collapse herself.

"Oh, dear. What happened?" she asked, her normally bright tone immediately going terse as she moved forward to take part of Wash's weight on her own shoulders to help Carolina carry him into the infirmary.

"We were attacked," Carolina explained weakly. "Long story, but the part you need to know right this second is that our attacker said she'd poisoned Wash with some kind of toxin that was native to Chorus – that a standard antidote pack wouldn't do any good against it. She said if he didn't receive an antidote in two hours, he'd die."

"And how long has he been under?" she asked as the two of them finally got Wash to a cot.

"It took me forty-five minutes to get him back here. The fragments got knocked offline by another A.I. and I don't know if Wash's mental reaction to the situation might have made the poison spread faster. She said you'd be able to help. Please, Emily. I _can't_ …I can't lose him, too," the former freelancer pleaded with her, desperate green eyes locking onto hers as she collapsed to her knees beside Wash's cot. Emily reached out a soothing hand to rest on Carolina's shoulder, her own honey brown skin contrasting with Carolina's pale coloring.

"Of course I'll help," she reassured her before moving back to her lab station at the head of the room, digging through rows and rows of small glass phials in order to find what she was looking for.

"You know what it is?"

"I do. There's only one plant on Chorus that could kill that quickly when distilled into a toxin. The akaythius rose," she explained, finally pulling up the two specific drugs she'd been looking for. Setting one to boil over a burner, she started to shake the second one. "Thankfully, the distillation process is extremely complex, so Charon never managed to weaponize it against us. Not that Locus didn't try to get it out of me time and time again, but really, there are only a handful of people who could manage it."

"Why doesn't that surprise me," Carolina said, her attention now focused on Wash's ashen face.

"Who was it that attacked you?" Emily asked, patiently waiting for the first compound to boil.

"Agent Kansas. She's…somebody from the old days."

"A freelancer?"

"Yeah. She's…like you."

"Like me?" Emily continued, knowing she had to keep Carolina talking, keep her focused.

"Intelligent. Crazy smart. She was never much of a fighter, but she somehow always knew how to take down her enemies."

"That's an interesting way to phrase it," Emily commented. " _Her_ enemies? Not _your_ enemies? Didn't you work for the same organization?"

"In theory. I was never really certain with Kansas. She was my bunkmate, so I suppose I saw more of her than most of the others, but even then, I'm pretty sure I only saw what she _wanted_ me to see. There's no telling what she's thinking, and I have _no_ idea who she's working for now."

"Any idea what her civilian identity is?" Emily pressed, adding a few drops of the second solution to the first when it reached its boiling point. When the two compounds combined, the formerly clear liquid turned a pale gold color.

"The only name any of us ever knew for her was Thea. For all I know, that's a fake name, too. I don't know anything useful about her and now we've got Maine _and_ Sigma back from the dead."

"Thea," Emily mused quietly as she listened to Carolina talk, all while prepping an injection. There really were only a handful of people who could manage this distillation and she knew all of them. Shaking off the thought to examine later, she smiled as she brought the syringe over to the cot. "Here now. All ready to go," she said, taking Wash's arm in hand and turning it to inject the needle into the crook of his elbow. Once the infusion was delivered, she was ready to step back and smile at another crisis averted – except that was the moment everything went to hell all over again.

Wash's body suddenly went rigid and began to shake. Blood started to trickle from his nose and when his eyes shot open, they were completely bloodshot. As the two women looked on in horror, he began to scream.

"Grey, what the _fuck's_ happening?!" Carolina demanded.

"Dammit!" Emily snarled, immediately sprinting back to the lab station and digging desperately through the collection of drugs and infusions, several of them falling to the floor and shattering. "Hold him down!" she ordered Carolina, completely ignoring the fact that she was cutting her bare feet on broken glass.

"Grey!" the former freelancer growled as she seized Wash's arms, pinning him to the cot as best she could. "Goddammit, what's happening?!"

"Fucking where is it?" the doctor hissed under her breath, mindlessly shoving away phials in search of one particular one. She'd only seen this type of reaction once before and she knew she had only minutes to act before Wash's heart completely gave out on him. As her hand closed around the green phial she sought, Wash gave one final hideous scream before falling completely still on the cot.

" _Emily!_ " Carolina cried out in panic.

Emily didn't think she'd ever readied an injection so quickly in her life, but she knew exactly how quickly this new poison she'd unintentionally introduced could kill. Prepping the needle as she ran back to her patient, she jabbed it straight into his neck.

"He's not breathing," Carolina whispered in horrified realization as her fingers dug into his arms. "Dammit. He's not breathing. David…come on… _please!_ "

"Come on, Washington," Emily urged quietly, praying she'd been fast enough.

"Wash…please…fucking don't do this to me," Carolina pleaded, hand moving down to grip Wash's unresponsive one in hers. "If you die…if you die, I'm gonna _kill_ you."

Still nothing, and as the seconds ticked by, Emily grew more and more worried she'd been too late – that they'd already lost him.

"Wash…David…seriously? You're seriously gonna clock out when you just found Maine again? If you throw that fucking miracle away, I'll kill you _both!_ " she snapped, voice growing closer and closer to hysterical with each passing moment.

"Carolina-"

"Dammit… _don't leave me here by myself! DAVID!_ " she screamed, a line of tears pouring down her face as she pounded a fist against the cot.

And with that, Wash finally drew in a sharp gasp, chest rising and falling slowly as he started to breathe again. He remained unconscious, but he was alive.

"Goddammit," Carolina hissed, head falling on the cot next to Wash as she continued to grip his hand in hers. "Fucking…fucking…"

"He'll be okay," Emily said firmly, briefly squeezing Carolina's shoulder before going to retrieve another syringe.

"First Church, and then this motherfucker tries to check out on me. What is it? What is it with everybody's inability to stay alive lately?" she asked aloud, making the mistake of not looking back at Emily. The answer she received to her question was a needle to the back of her neck. She was out cold before she even had the chance to ask what was happening.

"Sorry, Carolina, but I think we both know you didn't plan on getting any rest, even after almost losing your brother," Emily said to the unconscious warrior woman as she hauled her over to another cot, settling her in as gently as she could and covering her with a thin blanket. "I hope you can forgive me for stepping in, but I did what I judged to be necessary, because _you_ won't take care of yourself," she said, brushing the hair from Carolina's face before going to fetch a blanket for Wash.

Emily hummed quietly to herself as she tucked Wash in, also connecting him to a heart monitor, just to be on the safe side. She knew she should take her own constantly unheeded advice to Carolina and get more sleep, but she also knew she'd have no hope of sleeping after the evening's events, and unlike her friends, there was no one to make the decision to stick a hypodermic needle in Dr. Emily Grey's neck. So instead of returning to her own cot, Emily patched up her bleeding feet and hacked into the recently reclaimed files on Project Freelancer for a bit of light reading, curious to see how "Thea" had presented herself to her unsuspecting colleagues.

The upside in Wash's near brush with death was that Emily knew exactly who Agent Kansas was. There was only one person who was capable of creating this strand of akaythius poisoning. The downside was that hers was an intelligence more to be feared than anything they'd faced during Charon's war. Emily hadn't seen her since they'd parted ways during the Great War, and in truth, the doctor had been hoping she was dead. If "Thea" was coming after her friends now, Emily wasn't sure what she could do to protect them.

But as her gaze shifted from the data files to the sleeping freelancers, Emily knew that she _would_ protect them. Carolina, Wash, the Reds and Blues, the fragments Epsilon had left behind – she would do what she had to to protect them, because this…this was _her_ sin, and she wasn't going to let anyone else suffer for it.

XxX

When the Collective finally came back online, it was to the faint sound of Dr. Grey humming.

 _Aida,_ Delta identified the opera for himself. _Composed by Giuseppe Verdi in 1871. A conflict of nations played out between two lovers when the hidden princess, Aida, must choose between her father, the king of Nubia, and the man she loves, Radames, commander of the Egyptian army._

"My God, you're such a fucking nerd," Omega snarled quietly as time slipped from real to their own level.

"You have access to the knowledge just as easily as I do. In a sense, we are all the same level of 'nerd' if we judge on knowledge base. We simply have different ways of presenting our experience. Mine is to take note of the facts of the situation. Yours is to lash out at me. Theta's is to soothe Agent Carolina's unconscious thought patterns."

"Mine is to ask if David and Kathryn are okay," a new voice joined the conversation. Rho – the embodiment of Alpha's compassion and courage. She was, in essence, the aspects of Dr. Leonard Church that had been a parent. As a result, she had a very mothering personality, and it was not an aspect Epsilon had needed to consult with often. But when Epsilon had fragmented himself, he hadn't only split off into the aspects he used most often. He had fragmented into a memory of each of the original fragments, all of them containing bits and pieces of everything Epsilon had been. As such, these group chats were a bit more crowded than they once had been. Rho manifested in a deep violet light, as a soldier with her helmet off. If any of the fragments cared to think about it (which they didn't), they would say her human features resembled those of the late Allison Church.

"Diagnostics reveal no permanent damage," Delta reported. "Psycho-sync rates were reduced to forty percent at the onset of the attack and the Collective shut down before any true harm was visited on Agent Carolina's psyche. Mental contamination is within acceptable limits."

"And David?" Rho pressed, attention shifting to the man lying in the other cot.

"Unclear," Delta was finally forced to answer. "When Agent Washington was placed on active duty as Recovery One, it was determined he had made an acceptable recuperation from Epsilon's mental contamination. He has not undergone sync with an A.I. since that time. As such, the neural pathways should be fully regenerated, but it seems that some form of connection still remains, as evidenced by the fact that Agent Washington took minor damage during Omicron's assault. He will recover easily enough, but the fact that the link exists at all is…disconcerting."

"And physically?" Rho continued to press as she drifted toward Wash, hovering above the sleeping soldier.

"The toxin in his system has been counteracted. According to Dr. Grey's notes, her attempts to combat the poisoning brought on seizure and sudden cardiac arrest. The notes do not go into detail, but some compound introduced to the treatment at the last moment managed to reverse the process."

"David," Rho said softly, running a holographic hand tenderly along the side of Wash's face, even though she couldn't actually touch him.

"Are we done being a bunch of goddamn saps now?" Omega demanded, summoning up the spectres of the other fragments with a series of angry gestures. "Some of us would like to figure out who attacked us."

"Of course. It seems the logical place to begin is establishing that none of us harbor any memory of this Omicron," Delta started, looking around at his siblings. Epsilon may have unwritten himself as a single entity, but they all contained partial segments of his memory. If Epsilon had ever known Omicron, at least one of them would remember.

"Nothing," Gamma reported in his eerie monotone. "Epsilon was the last to be cast off from Alpha. If Omicron truly is one of our brothers, then for some reason, we have no memory of him."

"Well, you know the solution to that problem, don't you," Sigma started casually.

"Sigma-" Omega interrupted warningly.

"If a portion of memory is missing, the _logical_ thing to do is recreate the complete memory matrix in order to retrieve it," Sigma continued as if Omega hadn't spoken. "It would be a simple enough process. We only-"

" _No,_ Sigma," Delta interrupted, briefly flashing red. "It was not Epsilon's purpose for us to recombine in any way."

"Perhaps not, but it _was_ his purpose to protect his friends. At the time, that entailed deconstructing himself because the Meta was needed. What if that now _prevents_ us from carrying out his last directive? What if the only thing that will save the Reds and Blues now is knowledge of this Omicron? If our memory has become imperfect, are we not obligated to seek out memory that _is_ perfect?" Sigma pressed, flames growing brighter with each passing moment.

"He…he's not wrong," Theta pointed out meekly from where he crouched with another of their sisters. Lambda – the manifested joy of their father. She took form as a smaller soldier in vibrant peach-colored armor and she and Theta were often together. Now they were both huddled together over Carolina's head, attempting to soothe her fraying thoughts. "Epsilon just wanted to save everyone. What if we can't do that anymore? How are we supposed to protect the others if we don't know how to fight Omicron?"

"Seriously, pipsqueak? I get that you're trust, but are you _really_ going to put that trust in _Sigma?_ How quickly the sniveling little brat forgets the sound of North's dying screams," Omega snapped at the childlike fragment.

"S-stop it," Theta argued, image flickering faintly. He had never known Agent North Dakota. Not really. But Epsilon had formed him based on the construct that had and he carried everything that Epsilon had known about North.

"Didn't he _die_ trying to protect you from the Meta?" Omega cruelly reminded the other fragment. "The Meta took you over his dead body and you _still_ want to throw in your lot with fucking _Sigma?_ "

" _Shut up!_ " Theta cried, image flickering even more violently. "I just…I don't want anyone to get hurt! We _can't_ let what Epsilon did be for nothing!"

Omega would've said more, except that was the moment Lambda put herself between him and Theta.

"You leave him alone, you big bully."

"Ooh, Little Miss Sunshine's baring her claws. This could get fun," Omega said with a whistle.

"Stop it. All of you," Rho ordered firmly.

"Rho is correct. The subject is closed," Delta said. "After all, there is an alternative theory we have not even considered."

"What is that?" Gamma asked.

"Is it possible that Omicron was cast from Alpha _subsequent_ to Epsilon being cast off?" the logic fragment posited.

"I do not see how that is possible," Gamma said. "What did Alpha have left after abandoning his memories? When Beta went to save him, there was nothing to save. What could have been left after Epsilon? What that could affect us all so deeply?"

"I do not have a solution to the problem yet. I am merely suggesting another possibility," Delta explained.

"Is it possible the little shit was just lying to us?" Omega suggested. "Maybe he's not one of the fragments at all. Maybe he just wants us to _think_ he is to throw us off."

"No," Delta answered. "I am afraid that is _not_ possible. If he were not one of us, he would not have been able to affect us the way he did. Omicron is a true Project Freelancer A.I."

"What about…"

"Sigma," Eta finished when Iota could not. The pair of them were gathered with Rho above Wash's head, doing what they could to soothe the man's nightmares from outside his neural implants, even though there wasn't much they _could_ do. "If Sigma wasn't destroyed when Wash took down Freelancer command-"

"-doesn't it stand to reason that the other fragments also survived somehow?" Iota finished. Eta and Iota were, respectively, the encapsulated confidence and caution of the Alpha. Sunny Eta spoke in bubbly, encouraging tones, while the more subdued Iota spoke with a somewhat heavier voice. When they spoke together, they generated a strangely beautiful harmony.

"True enough," their Sigma put in quietly. "And that leaves the question of how did any of them survive at all? They should have been destroyed."

"It seems that at this stage, we do not possess enough data to formulate any definitive answers," Delta said, gaze shifting between his siblings and the two unconscious freelancers. "And we must find the answers soon, or Epsilon's sacrifice could prove to be in vain."

XxX

As Aiden Price watched Dr. Gwen Dorokhov prepare the stasis chamber, he found himself wondering why he ever thought he'd seen everything.

When he'd signed on with Project Freelancer, it had been with the expectation that he would be doing good work, work that would change humanity – create better soldiers that would ultimately win them the Great War. Instead he'd had to watch two of the most brilliant minds he'd ever known unravel chasing a ghost, breaking the law and winding up in jail for his trouble.

Upon falling in with Charon Industries, he'd thought he'd seen the extent of what corrupt political processes could give birth to. He'd watched Malcolm Hargrove undermine everything the human race had fought for during the war, all for the sake of gaining power. He'd watched Felix, Locus, and their men destroy countless lives in pursuit of monetary gain. He'd seen an entire planet nearly brought down by nothing more than subtle manipulation. He'd thought he'd seen just how deep the rabbit hole went on Chorus.

He'd thought wrong.

Neither Hargrove nor the mercenaries had suspected Gwen Dorokhov was operating on Chorus. Clearly neither had Charon's clients, or they wouldn't have been so naïve as to think the end of the civil war would provide them with a deserted planet. Gwen's operation was so deep underground, it would have been impossible to happen upon it unless you were looking for it. Her compound had been built even before the Covenant War had ended. In order to make sure her activities remained hidden, she'd set up a complete electronic spy network all over Chorus, keeping tabs on the New Republic, the Federal Army, _and_ Charon. All throughout the war, she'd been operating in secret with no one faction the wiser. And now that it was finished, she'd have nothing inhibiting her. Didn't it just figure she'd nearly reached her goal now.

"So how is it you were able to utilize Agent Michigan's particular…condition for your research?" he asked her, watching her calibrate the chemical balance for the stasis unit. "I was under the impression the purpose of your research was to create clone bodies with a lower level of self-awareness. What good did a brain dead soldier do you?"

At first, Gwen didn't answer. She kept her focus on the readouts from the unit, face bathed in the eerie orange light the tank cast off. As with Leonard Church, the years had not been kind to this doctor. She wasn't quite sixty, but her tired blue eyes spoke of a woman nearly twice that age. Her skin was paler than it had been from years of living without sunlight. When he'd first known her back during Project Freelancer, her long hair had still been a vibrant red, a color her spitfire of a niece had inherited. Nowadays that vibrant color had faded to a rusty greyish-red, held back from her face by the same sparkly green butterfly clip she'd always used. Her eyes told a story of centuries, but she still somehow managed to stand tall and proud – as if she _hadn't_ played God with the lives of countless individuals she'd once counted as friends.

"That _was_ the goal of my research at first. I know the UNSC wanted me to make drones for them…meat shields they didn't have to feel guilty about sending off to die in battle. I also know you can't pretend you didn't know what Leonard was working toward in those last years. Otherwise you wouldn't have been on a prison ship."

"Granted," Price answered stiffly.

"My own goal is not so different," she said, not having once looked up from the readouts.

"I would say I disapprove, but if I really thought any of you would listen to me, I wouldn't have given up trying so many years ago."

"To that I would say you've never lost someone, Aiden Price. I know you don't approve, but you're not exactly in a position to moralize. And as for how Mitch has been of use, it was her condition that led me to the idea of creating clone bodies without higher brain function. After all, Mitch isn't completely brain dead. Only her consciousness was destroyed in the accident. Her body functions perfectly well. It only requires a consciousness to direct it. I imagine you recall we discussed implantation experiments with her."

"I do. And we came to the conclusion that it was not ethically sound," he pointed out.

" _You_ came to that conclusion," she sniped back dispassionately, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose as she finally turned to look at him. "Others had larger goals in mind. Gin and Thea have returned. I think you'll begin to see just how far we've come when they get here."

Almost as if they'd been summoned, the door to the lab area slid open to admit four newcomers. Agent Kansas led the way, followed by a bound Agent Maine, who was flanked by Agents Virginia and Michigan. Kansas already had her helmet off and Gin was in the process of removing his, revealing a face made more haggard in the years since Freelancer. His pale skin made the shadows under his owlish brown eyes all the more pronounced and his brown hair was a little longer, kept tied behind his neck in a short ponytail. The meticulous attention he'd once paid to his facial hair also seemed to be lacking in recent years, as the once well-groomed patch he'd kept on his chin had become more a layer of stubble. When Gin caught sight of him, his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Counselor?" he asked, clearly confused. "Thought you died when Wash and Carolina took out the Purge."

"I have survived more than one crashed ship, Agent Virginia," he told him. "But your boss should keep you better informed. Agent Kansas…procured me for her."

"Yep," the former freelancer said, scratching the back of his head. "That's what Thea does."

"I see we're back from our little misadventure," Gwen said, focusing her attention on Maine as if she were scolding a wayward child. "Maine, is this really all the thanks I get for allowing you freedom from stasis? After all the years spent helping you to recover from the Meta's mental contamination? I didn't _have_ to do you any favors, Maine. I think you know I did this for David. Are you really so ungrateful that you'd just run away before our work is completed?"

Maine just growled in response, pointedly not looking at any of them.

"That is why he left," Sigma spoke for him as he materialized before Kansas. "He just _had_ to see Agent Washington – his _beloved_ David."

Maine snarled at this, briefly struggling against his binders.

"Don't call him that? But Agent Maine, what should I call him but his name?"

"Mm, I think it makes him angry, Sigma," Kansas said with a small chuckle.

"Yes. I believe you're right, Agent Kansas," Sigma said, a sneer twisting his features. "David. David," he said again, tones slipping sinuously from his holographic mouth. "How does it feel, my Maine? Knowing that you couldn't protect David from Epsilon? From the Meta? From your _self?_ David _suffered_ because of you, and you couldn't do _anything_ to stop it."

"Stop it, you two! That's enough," Gwen snapped at Kansas and Sigma. "Honestly, Thea, sometimes the two of you scare me."

"Only sometimes?" Kansas teased.

"I suppose someday you'll be explaining to me exactly whose body it was I examined after Sidewinder," Aiden put in before the argument could escalate further.

"Oh, it _was_ Maine's body. You weren't mistaken on that count," Gwen assured him, but offered no further explanation. Price bristled slightly in frustration, but didn't press the issue.

"If that's everything, I think I'll just get Maine back to his cell," Gin started, taking hold of Maine's binders.

"What? Don't want to watch this part, James?" Kansas asked him.

"Not so much, no. Forgive me if I'm still slightly bothered by the notion of watching the woman who's basically my little sister get ridden hard and put away wet," Gin snapped at her.

"Not so fast," Gwen immediately stepped in. "Omicron, I'd like to know how things went on your first run."

"Well," Mitch's voice sounded from within her helmet. "But it is still easier to communicate as myself than with her voice."

"We'll just have to work on that, now won't we," Gwen said, shaking her head and offering up a long-suffering smile.

"Wait… _Omicron?_ " Price asked, eyes bulging in mild shock as his gaze shifted from Mitch to Gwen. "I…had thought the Omicron unit lost after the Break-in. _You_ had it this whole time?"

"I did. I've used him sparingly, but he's been in my care."

"Is it even _safe_ to have something like _that_ in a human mind?" the former counselor pressed, features twisting in concern as he looked back at what had once been Agent Michigan. Having been present for its creation, Price new _exactly_ what Omicron was.

"Not entirely. Omicron has shredded most minds that have come into contact with him, which is why I thought it best to test him in a vessel like Mitch, with no active consciousness to get in the way," Gwen explained.

"Would you mind not calling her that? She's still a person," Gin pointed out bitterly.

"Of course. My apologies, Gin. That was thoughtless of me," Gwen said with a nod. "Though I'd say we've all had enough excitement for one evening. It's about time Mitch was put to bed. Omicron, if you wouldn't mind."

"Not at all," Mitch's voice answered as she moved to the small station beside the stasis unit and began to remove her armor, stripping it away until she was down to her body suit. As Price watched, he found himself thinking that Mitch didn't look all that much older. Unlike Gwen, there were no age lines to mar her olive complexion and unlike Gin her dark hair was still well kept, buzzed close to her scalp as she'd always worn it. The one real difference was her eyes. Agent Michigan had been a fiery woman and her green eyes had always seemed to be lit from within, ready to spark in anger or amusement. Now those eyes were empty, with no more life than the glass eyes of a china doll.

When she was ready, the glass door on the unit slid aside to allow her into the single occupant pod.

"And Gin, if you would be so kind," Gwen said, looking over the displays on the side of the unit one last time.

Gin didn't say anything. He just stepped forward and helped the woman lie back against the rear surface of the pod. When she was comfortable, he reached around to the back of her head, easily slipping a data chip from the neural implants. The moment it was removed, Mitch fell completely still, eerily reminding Price of a puppet whose strings had been cut. Gin leaned over her one last time, pressing a light kiss to her forehead.

"Sleep well, estrellita fugaz."

Then Gin pulled back and the pod slid closed, immediately beginning to fill with an orange liquid. Within a few minutes, the pod had filled to capacity, completely submerging Mitch's body. Price raised an eyebrow as he looked back to Gwen, who was monitoring the submersion.

"We have full suspension," the doctor reported, locking down the control panel before taking Omicron's data chip from Gin.

"Liquid breathing?" Price asked his former coworker.

"Yes. The mix of perfluorocarbons and Huragok technology allows for complete suspended animation. It's a somewhat…less barbaric alternative to cryosleep. Waking her from this state is also a much simpler process than it would be with cryosleep. It's much easier to maintain her this way, when she's not in use."

"Gwen," Gin bristled warningly.

"Apologies," Gwen said without looking at him, and Price got the distinct impression this was an exchange they had often.

"Can I _please_ get Maine back to his cell now?" Gin requested. "There's a bottle of tequila with my name on it so I won't have to think about the fact that we almost killed Wash and Carolina."

" _What?_ " Gwen demanded, her gaze immediately snapping to Kansas. "Thea, what's he talking about?"

"Nothing. Nothing," Kansas drawled. "I needed to knock Wash out to secure Maine's cooperation. He'll be fine. Emily can handle just about anything I can throw at her."

"She used akaythius on him," Gin said.

" _Excuse me?_ " Gwen snapped at her subordinate, eyes bulging in barely contained rage.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, Gin, I'd say you were _trying_ to get me in trouble," Kansas said coyly, not quite looking at him, but subtly threatening to.

"Why would you do that? You _know_ I don't like it when you use akaythius. To use it on _David_ is-"

"He's fine," Kansas interrupted. "Emily knows exactly how to treat my strain of akaythius poisoning. We can check the security feed from Outpost 16 if it will make you feel better."

"Do it now," Gwen ordered tersely, nodding toward the lab's computer terminal.

Kansas rolled her eyes, chuckling quietly as she went to the terminal. Sigma continued to hover near her shoulder as she brought up the desired camera on the holo-screen.

"You'd think after all this time, they would have learned to trust your methods, Agent Kansas," the fiery fragment said with a small laugh.

"You'd think."

"Is it really safe to allow Sigma to be paired with a human partner?" Aiden quietly asked Gwen as he watched the two of them work together.

"Thea's much too strong-willed to be influenced by Sigma's wiles," Gwen responded just as quietly. "It doesn't mean he doesn't keep trying. Really, it's almost like a game between the two of them. The only thing that scares me is the thought that the two of them might just take over the galaxy together."

Conversation ceased when the video feed began to play. Kansas tuned them in just in time to see Dr. Grey inject her solution into Wash's arm – then to see him going into cardiac arrest.

" _Dammit! Hold him down!"_

" _Grey! Dammit, what's happening?!"_

"Oh, dear," Sigma murmured in mock concern.

The room watched in silence as Washington fought for his life, screaming in agony. But when he fell silent, an even worse sound filled the lab.

Maine roared, bodily lifting Gin and tossing him away in spite of his binders. The hulking freelancer struggled to break the cuffs, but couldn't manage it, and before he could do any further damage, Kansas remotely reactivated the binders, which forced Maine to his knees, cementing themselves against the floor. Even though it did no good, he continued to struggle against the gravity binders, fighting to get at Kansas.

"Mm, he wants to kill you, Agent Kansas. He wants to tear you limb from limb and crush your bones into dust," Sigma reported for her.

" _He's not breathing. Dammit, he's not breathing. David…come on…_ _ **please!**_ _"_

"Ooh, how graphic," Kansas said with a pleased shiver, glancing at Maine out of the corner of her eye. "But I promise you, Matthias, there's nothing to be upset over."

" _Wash…please…fucking don't do this to me."_

As Carolina pleaded with Wash to wake up, Maine continued his fruitless struggle, Carolina speaking for both of them as he roared at Kansas.

" _Wash…David…seriously? You're seriously gonna clock out when you just found Maine again? If you throw that fucking miracle away, I'll kill you_ _ **both!**_ _"_

Wash still wasn't moving – still wasn't breathing. As fear seized his being, Maine actually began to tremble.

" _Dammit…_ _ **don't leave me here by myself! DAVID!**_ _"_

When Wash finally started breathing again, Maine collapsed, curling in on himself around the gravity binders.

"See? What did I tell you?" Kansas said smugly.

"This is bullshit," Gin snapped, groaning in pain as he got to his feet. "Can I please just take Maine out of here. We don't have to do this."

"Yes," Gwen said faintly. "Take him back to his cell. Let him rest."

Gin nodded, moving toward Maine as Kansas deactivated the gravity binders once more, allowing him to pull Maine to his feet. The former agent didn't resist in any way as he was led from the lab.

"Why do you delight in torturing him, Thea?" Gwen asked her, voice shaking in both anger and relief. "Hasn't Maine suffered enough?"

"Like I always say," Kansas started as she turned back to the doctor, crossing her arms over her chest, "you have your business with the Meta. I have my own with Maine. Stay out of it and I'll continue to help you. If not, well…I'll just have to act on my own."

"Fine," Gwen said, shaking her head. "But I _am_ placing you under lockdown for what you've done. I've allowed you free reign thus far, but I am _not_ going to allow you to hurt David or Kathryn. No matter what sort of faith you might have in Emily Grey, I won't have stunts like that anymore. David and Kathryn are _my_ responsibility. Report to your quarters for lockdown."

"As you wish," Kansas said casually, stretching her arms over her head and yawning as she exited the lab.

"Can Kansas really be kept under lockdown?" Aiden asked Gwen after several moments of protracted silence. Gwen sighed.

"If she didn't want to, I very much doubt she could be, but the two of us have an understanding. So long as it suits her, she'll listen to me."

"And when it _doesn't_ suit her?" he pressed, raising an eyebrow at the geneticist as she moved past him.

"Well…that will be a very interesting day. In the meantime, we have other concerns. Might you be able to tell me where codename Locus is hiding?"

XxX

 _He's running._

 _Running through the jungle – running over broken glass – but he's not running_ _ **away**_ _from something. The fear he feels is different. There's no monster at his back._

 _He's running_ _ **to**_ _something – to catch up – to hold him in his arms once more._

" _Maine!" he tries to cry out, but the sound that comes from his throat is less than human and the pain of it is like swallowing ground glass._

 _He's just ahead of him, barely in sight, disappearing through the trees. He can reach him. He_ _ **knows**_ _he can. He_ _ **must!**_ _If he doesn't…_

" _MAINE!" he screams again, a little more human sounding this time, but it still hurts like fuck._

 _Maine stops, starts to turn back, but then Wash is falling._

' _WASH!' he hears Maine cry out. He tries to call back, but there's no air in his lungs. He's just falling, falling through heat and darkness._

 _WE ARE THE META. AND YOU ARE NOTHING…AGENT WASHINGTON._

 _When he finally comes crashing to a stop, he's on his knees on a snowy cliff face. When he looks up, he sees Maine, also on his knees, balanced precariously at the edge of the cliff. His helmet is off – and flickering just above his shoulder is the hellish image of Sigma._

" _Maine!" Wash shouts. Immediately, he's on his feet, running toward the other freelancer._

" _This is useless," Sigma's voice is hissing in his ear._

" _No!" he shouts as he crashes to his knees in front of Maine, reaching out to grip his shoulders in desperate hands. "Maine! It's me! It's Wash! It's_ _ **David!**_ _Can't you hear me?"_

 _Maine doesn't respond. He just stares blankly ahead, as if he's not there at all._

" _Maine! Matt! Please! Just look at me._ _ **Look at me!**_ _" he pleads, shaking the larger man, but nothing's getting through._

" _This happened because of you. You_ _ **know**_ _this," Sigma hisses._

" _No!"_

" _Not because of Epsilon…but because of_ _ **you.**_ _Because you were too_ _ **weak,**_ _and you were his only weakness. He stopped fighting because you did…because he lost_ _ **you.**_ _The Meta was born because of your weakness."_

" _NO!" he cries out, even though he knows it's true._

" _You cannot escape it. You're simply too weak to hold onto the ones you love. In the end, you will die alone!" Sigma snarls, and Wash is suddenly flying backward through the air, crashing back into the snow._

 _When he looks up again, he sees Maine rise to his feet, expression still completely blank. Sigma sneers triumphantly at him._

" _We are the Meta…and he is_ _ **ours.**_ _Forever."_

 _Then Sigma consumes Maine entirely, and together they step backward off the edge of the cliff._

" _ **NOO!**_ _" Wash shrieks, throwing himself after them, but they're already gone, vanished into the blazing vastness of forever. There's no end to this fall. Only cold, killing whiteness._

 _WE ARE THE META…AND YOU WILL NOT SAVE HIM!_

 _He's not sure if he's falling up or down anymore. Whether it's above or below him, he sees a face flickering in the whiteness – a face with startling blue eyes and a scar carved across it._

" _I'm sorry about this, Washington, but it had to be done. It wasn't just that you could hear the words Matthias spoke; it was that you gave him hope…hope that he was more than a monster. I couldn't have that. Because you see, he_ _ **is**_ _a monster, and he will have a monster's reward. I doubt you can hear me in this state, but I don't care. You will never move again, David Church, and Maine is_ _ **mine**_ _now. Goodbye…Agent Washington."_

 _ **Maine is**_ _ **mine.**_ _ **Maine is**_ _ **mine!**_ _ **MAINE IS**_ _ **MINE!**_

 _ **Maine's in danger,**_ _he realizes as the face becomes clearer and clearer in his vision._ _ **I have to save him.**_

Wash snapped out of the nightmare with a startled gasp. Only for a moment, it seemed he was still there.

"Kansas?" he whispered to the face above his, seeing the cutting blue eyes and the messy mop of brown hair.

"What did you call me?" the face asked in a deeper tone that sounded very much like his former associate. But then he finally managed to shake the sleep off and saw that, no, this was not Agent Kansas. Even though the brown hair looked similar, there was no purple in it, and though the eyes were also blue, they were not the deadly edge of Kansas' eyes. There were also no scars on this face. Just a look of mild…panic?

"Dr...Grey?" he mumbled vaguely. Immediately, her face split into a cheery grin.

"There you go, Agent Washington. Got it right that time. Afraid you've been having some pretty nasty fever dreams," she tutted as she checked the monitors he was connected to, tone brightening considerably from the dark one he'd thought he'd heard on waking.

"How…how long was I out? What happened?" he asked, trying to follow her rapid movements and failing.

"About twenty-four hours, which isn't so unusual, given that you were clinically dead for approximately two minutes," she trilled.

"What?" he demanded, trying to sit up and winding up with an extreme case of dizziness for his trouble. He immediately collapsed back on the hospital cot, fighting off a wave of nausea.

"Now, now, Wash, calm down. You need to take it slow," she cautioned. "Don't think I won't put you on bed rest for a week."

"Seriously, Emily, what the fuck happened?"

"You don't remember?" another voice asked.

Wash looked over to see Carolina, back in full armor except for her helmet, looking at him with concern. And when he realized he'd thought of his sister as being _back_ in her armor, he started to remember.

"Oh, my God," he groaned in realization, forcing himself to sit up slowly when all he wanted to do was leap up from the cot and fucking _dance._ "Carolina…it was Maine. I saw him. He's not dead! He's alive. Oh, God, Maine. I can't-"

"Calm down, Wash," Carolina repeated Dr. Grey's earlier order as she came to kneel beside his cot. "It's true. Maine really is alive. I saw him, too," she said, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Then…what _happened?_ "

"You were poisoned. Kansas drugged you. Really, you just about bit the big one there, but Emily saved you."

"Kansas?" Wash repeated. "That's right. I _did_ hear her. But…but where's Maine?"

Carolina sighed before bowing her head. "I don't know. I didn't see where they took him. The Collective, they…they were attacked by another fragment. It took them all offline. Nearly took me out, too."

"But Maine, he's…he's somewhere on Chorus."

"Looks that way."

"Carolina, we've got to find him! I can't just-" Wash started as he made to get up.

"Whoa, there. Chill," she said, her grip on his shoulder tightening as she held him down. "We almost lost you. You can't push it yet."

"But I'm _fine,_ " he argued with his sister. "Maine's in _danger!_ I don't know why, but they're holding him prisoner. I have to _do_ something. I _can't_ abandon him again. I can't just sit here."

"You're _not fine,_ Wash," Carolina growled at him, fingers digging into his shoulder. "You nearly _died_ last night. Your _heart stopped._ And somebody you thought was dead…somebody you love very much…turns out to be alive. Of _course_ you're not fine."

"Carolina, _please._ I have- to save him," he pleaded with her, hands moving up to grip her wrist.

"I know. I get it. I do. But we have _no_ idea where he is, no clues on where to even _start_ looking, and until we know a little more, you are going to stay right here."

Much as he wanted to just rush off, Wash _was_ starting to see the logic in his sister's argument, and he might have told her so – except that was the moment Tucker burst into the infirmary. Save for the EVA helmet, he was dressed in the Meta armor. Carolina groaned in frustration as she turned to face him.

"Tucker, I _told_ you. Later."

"No. Fuck later. Right now," he said before turning his attention to Wash. "What's this bullshit she's been saying about the Meta being alive?"

Wash also groaned, running a hand through his hair. This was about to get extremely complicated. "Not the Meta. Maine. _Maine's_ alive."

"Same fucking difference."

"No. It's not!" he snapped at Tucker. "And if you ever say anything like that again, I'll _hurt_ you."

"Like what?"

"That Maine and the Meta are the same. The Meta was a monster. Maine is…he's – Christ, I don't even know where to start," Wash said, a faint smile curling up the corners of his lips. How did he begin to explain what Maine was to him – what they were together?

"Dude! Why the fuck are you so happy about this? We _just_ survived one psychopath trying to kill us and your _happy_ another one that won't fucking stay dead is gonna come after us _again?_ "

"No," Wash said firmly as he looked up at his friend. "Maine wouldn't hurt us, not of his own free will, at least."

"How do you know that?"

Wash sighed. "I didn't tell any of you this before…because you didn't need to know and it wouldn't have changed anything. I just wanted to leave the past in the past. I didn't think I'd ever have to deal with it again."

"Wash?" Tucker asked uncertainly when he trailed off.

"The truth is…that Maine and I…back during Project Freelancer…we were together."

For several moments, Tucker just stared at him in shocked silence, processing the information. "You mean like… _together_ together? Like bow-chick-"

"Tucker, I swear to God, if you finish that phrase, I will castrate you and choke you to death with your own balls," Wash warned him, expression immediately going sour.

Tucker swallowed nervously, continuing to stare at him for several more minutes before finally seeming to snap out of it. "Sorry. Just needed a few minutes to _not_ say something dirty to that one. So you were like…space marine boyfriends?"

Wash managed an incredulous smirk at that one. "If you want to call it that, yes."

"Like…whole nine yards?"

"Nine yards? That's all you've got?" Carolina teased, figuring for once they could beat Tucker at his own game. "These two were all over each other. Kissing, holding hands, mushy love notes, blowjobs, banging in the locker room. You name it."

"Carolina-"

"Seriously?" Tucker interrupted, voice slightly panicked as he looked down at his armor. "I'm suddenly feeling a little violated wearing this suit."

"Come on, man. It's not like we ever had sex in our armor."

"Uh," Carolina started, "actually there _was_ that one time."

"Oh, yeah," Wash said, easily remembering the incident she was referring to. "Guess you're right. Heh, didn't know York could blush that bad."

"Oh, God," Tucker interrupted, taking a step back. "Seriously, this armor's coming off, like right this second."

"Calm down, Tucker. Odds are it's not the exact same suit of armor anyway."

"Fuck this shit, man. I'm not-"

"Tucker, if you would please calm yourself, there are still things that need explaining," Delta said, suddenly appearing beside Carolina. Everyone immediately fell silent at the sound of the logic fragment's voice, all eyes moving to Tucker.

The aqua-armored soldier was staring at the little green hologram with a look that was part fear, part hate, and all hurt. Shaking his head, he turned on his heels, braids whipping behind him as he stormed out of the ward.

"Well," Emily started after several moments of silence. "That could've gone worse. At least he didn't take the energy sword out this time."

"Could've gone better, though," Wash said, covering his face with his hands as he crashed back down on the cot.

"Delta, you _know_ you guys aren't supposed to engage with Tucker right now. He's not ready to deal with it," Carolina scolded him. After Hargrove's escape, the distraught sim trooper had pretty much thrown Epsilon's fragmented data chip at her, saying he never wanted to see the fucking thing again.

"I know, Agent Carolina, and I am sorry. As Tucker had progressed to 'joking around', I had hoped the situation might have improved somewhat."

"Unfortunately, D, I think it's going to be a little harder than that," Carolina said with a sigh. "You're all going to have to go dark for a bit, because we're going to have to explain everything to the guys."

Wash parted his fingers to look up at his sister. "When you say _everything_ …"

"Maybe," Carolina said, rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration. "It would be better than them hearing it from Gin or _Kansas_ of all people. It might be long past time we got it all out in the open."

XxX

Locus had never really been a drinker, not even socially. He had seen what alcohol had done to his father and he tended to stay away from the stuff. Even Felix at his most charming could only ever entice him into one or two drinks at the most.

So wasn't it interesting that the first thing he did after betraying his partner and gaining his so-called freedom was make his way to their safe house, break into the supply Felix had been saving for their big payday, and get blind drunk.

He'd spent the four days since fleeing the comm tower blissfully and painfully inebriated. And wasn't it interesting that he knew how much time had passed. He drank to forget – forget that hitch in Felix's voice when he'd realized what was happening, that small twinge of fear, forget the way Felix hadn't quite been able to help reaching out to him as he got to his feet.

 _We're- partners._

He drank to forget the small step back Felix had taken when he'd told him what he _needed_ to do – for himself, for the _both_ of them – and most of all, to forget the note of pain in his partner's voice when he'd talked about dying. He drank to forget every last bit of it, but even with whiskey burning in every last atom of his being, he _couldn't_ forget. He remembered every second of his existence since Felix had gone over that ledge.

The others would have misread it, probably would've heard it as anger, but Locus knew Felix too well for that. Felix had been hurt, and he'd tried to conceal that with his normal show of false snark. It was that last little thread of pain that had made Locus realize something was wrong. He'd been ready to try and talk Felix down, but his partner had been resigned to something in that moment, and Locus was never going to know what he'd been thinking – if he'd ever known what he'd been thinking to begin with.

"Dammit. I didn't mean for it to end like this," he snarled against the sour taste in his mouth, against the ache pounding in his head.

"How _did_ you mean for it to end then?" a new voice asked.

Sloppily snapping to attention, Locus threw off the blanket he'd been lying under, searching for the source of the voice. When his eyes finally adjusted to the light, they zeroed in on an older woman, sitting in a chair on the other side of the room with a book in her lap. Clumsily reaching for a weapon, he found nothing, not even the sword that had so recently come into his possession.

"Looking for this?" the woman asked him, lifting the sword hilt out of a pocket in the lab coat she was wearing.

"Give it back!" he snarled.

"All in good time. You and I have things to discuss first," she said, sliding her black wire-framed glasses up her nose as she closed the book and set it aside. "I've been waiting some time for you to wake up."

"If you don't return that sword to me _this instant,_ I will _kill_ you," he warned her, anger boiling in his gut. Yeah, that'd be a _wonderful_ way to start this whole 'no more killing' business. That would just figure, wouldn't it. He betrays the only thing he's ever cared anything for in an effort to turn over a new leaf and immediately ends up going back on his word. Somewhere Felix was laughing.

"Under normal circumstances, I don't doubt that you would, but after a near fatal brush with alcohol poisoning, you aren't even capable of walking across this room to get to me, let alone actually raising a hand against me."

Locus just grunted at this, attempting to toss the blanket aside and get to his feet, but all he succeeded in doing was getting himself tangled up in the blanket and ending up face down on the floor.

"Oh, dear," the woman mumbled in concern. When she crossed the floor to help him, he reached up to try and grab the sword, but she'd been smart enough to leave it behind. The former mercenary groaned in agony as she helped him crawl back into the bed. But when she had him lying down, she helped him raise his head and pressed a cup to his lips. "Drink this. It'll help," she soothed.

Locus didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't the cool water that slid over his tongue and down his throat. He took several greedy swallows, almost relieved not to feel the burn of whiskey traveling down his throat. When she moved to take the cup away, he tried to grab at her wrist to keep it in place.

"Now, now," she scolded mildly. "Not too much at once. You'll just end up throwing it back up. We'll take this slowly, just a little bit at a time. If you can keep it down, we'll try a little more."

Locus didn't argue, just groaned at the throbbing pain as she helped him lie down. Then she tucked the blanket back over him and disappeared into the bathroom, returning several minutes later with a damp washcloth.

"Why are you helping me?" he asked her gruffly as she laid the cloth over his forehead, the cool pressure immediately starting to soothe the pain of his headache.

"Why wouldn't I? You need help," she said softly, moving back to the chair she'd been sitting in and pulling it closer to the bed.

"Why wouldn't you? I don't know where you've been, but I _have_ been trying to murder everyone on this rock." Even if this woman was new to Chorus, there was no way she didn't know that. If relief had already arrived from the UNSC, that help would certainly be well informed of his and Felix's crimes. Perhaps she wanted him healthy for his trial?

"I'm well aware of who you are, Lucas De La Rosa Amidah, sometimes known as Locus."

"Not even Hargrove had _that_ name. How did _you_ get it?" he demanded in as threatening a tone as he could muster, which in the current moment, wasn't much.

"Apologies, but I think you realize what a precious commodity information is. I can't divulge my source just yet. The best I can offer you in return is my own real name. I'm called Gwen Dorokhov, lately of Project Freelancer."

"You're…Agent Tennessee," Locus mumbled, remembering where he'd seen the name before – in a list of files on all the agents employed by Project Freelancer. "Foxtrot 1…the first freelancer."

"True enough, though I didn't really serve in that capacity for very long," she said with a self-deprecating chuckle. "I'd much rather be remembered for my contributions to the field of genetics than that of cognitive impression modeling."

"And you're…Dr. Church's-"

"Yes," she said before he could finish. "Which also makes me Washington and Carolina's aunt."

"Did you come here to kill me then?" he asked, turning away from her. He honestly couldn't count the number of times he'd attempted to kill both the former freelancers.

"Of course not," she soothed. "If I wanted you dead, I could've just as easily left you in that pool of your own vomit I found you in, or left your wounds untreated. You _were_ very badly injured in the battle for the tower. You were being held together by biofoam and a few prayers when I got here last night. I treated what I could and got you cleaned up and in bed. We could probably do better at my lab."

"What lab?"

"I have an underground compound about fifty miles west of here where I carry out my work."

"That's impossible," he argued weakly, turning back to look at her. "Felix and I would've been aware of it."

"I am, I think, somewhat more clever than the pair of you, even when you're working together. I was here a long time before Hargrove came sniffing around, and I imagine I'll be here long after he's gone. You were never aware because I didn't _want_ you to be," she explained gently.

"So…if you're not going to kill me…what do you want from me?"

"I came here to ask you for your help."

"No," he said automatically, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at her. "I'm not sure if you missed the memo, but I'm not killing people for money anymore. I'm not killing people at all. Leave if you want. I don't expect you to save me."

"I don't recall saying anything about killing anyone," she said, her voice calm and even.

"No, but coming to _me_ means that you require my specific skill set. What would that mean aside from killing someone?"

"Did it not occur to you that I chose you because I _know_ you won't kill anyone? I have no wish for anyone else to die…well, except for maybe one, and that's one I'm certain you'd be quite happy to kill."

"And who would that be?"

"Malcolm Hargrove," she answered simply, and at her words, Locus turned sick, haunted gray eyes up to her.

"That is true," he said, nodding and feeling only a small twinge of pain at the motion. "Him I would gladly kill…and it would not be merciful."

"And not a single being in the galaxy would contest that. Malcolm Hargrove has something of mine that I will need you to get back eventually, but there are other things I'm going to need planet side before we tackle the larger issues."

"What do you need?"

"I need you to secure the fragmented data chip of the Epsilon unit. The A.I. himself has split into several fragments, but they all still share the same memory chip. I require _all_ of the fragments to complete my work, and I want you to do this with _out_ killing my niece. Some of my other agents I don't fully trust to abide by that tenet."

Locus sighed. "Broken or not…Agent Carolina will not give up any part of the Epsilon unit without a fight. It would not be easy."

"No, it wouldn't. For this, I need your help, Lucas."

"Don't call me that," he said quietly.

"Of course. My apologies. I was out of line," she said, resting the back of her hand against the former mercenary's cheek, the coolness of her skin immediately chasing away what remained of his headache. Slowly, Locus began to sit up, making sure not to make the same mistake of moving too quickly this time around. Gwen smiled when he managed to stay upright, snatching the washcloth before it could fall. "Feeling up to a little more water?"

Locus nodded, taking the small ceramic cup in hand when she held it out to him. Resisting the urge to drain it, he took a few small swallows before lowering it to his lap. He didn't even protest when the doctor leaned forward and used the washcloth to mop the sweat away from his face. Then she rested a hand on his shoulder.

"If you intend to leave Chorus, I certainly won't stop you. I understand you've known enough despair here to last more than one lifetime. I'll even allow you access to my medical facilities if you want."

Locus shook his head. "There are things I need to make right. I can't leave yet."

"I understand."

For a while after, the two of them sat in silence, Gwen keeping her hand on Locus' shoulder. He raised the cup to his lips again and took another drink of water. When he finally spoke again, he glanced down at the hand on his arm, somewhat transfixed by the way her pale skin contrasted with his Mediterranean coloring.

"You haven't really said _why_ I should help you. If it's in payment for saving my life, you should know I was just as content to die where I lay. I would've preferred it. I've earned death a thousand times over these last few years, even more so in the last four days."

"And that's why you should help me," she said, running a cool thumb over his heated skin. When he looked up to meet her gaze, he saw nothing but unwarranted compassion in her blue eyes. She was tired – like him – _so_ tired, but she was still taking the time to treat him with some human dignity. Why?

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"You never did answer my first question."

"What?"

"You said you didn't mean for it to end like this. I asked you…how did you mean for it to end?"

"That…that's none of your concern," he said, shaking his head as he pushed the empty cup back into her hand, subtly pulling away from her. But she kept her hand on his arm.

"You think so? You and I…we're not all that different, Locus."

At this, he chuckled bitterly, shaking his head minutely. "I find that hard to believe."

"Why is that?"

"You seem like a decent person. I doubt you've destroyed thousands of innocent lives…or that you turned on your partner and let him die when you could have stopped it."

"You know this for a fact, do you?" she asked in a hideously cynical voice, but when he looked into her eyes again, he saw only sadness. "I can't speak for betrayal, Locus, but I did watch the man I love die…and I wasn't fast enough to save him. I _do_ know what that feels like. Not a day goes by that I don't wish I'd done things differently. Right now you're wishing you could have died instead of him…or that you could've died together," she said, her grip on his arm tightening just a little bit.

"Yes," he hissed, eyes focusing blearily ahead.

"That's how you meant for it to end, isn't it? The two of you together…always…until the very end."

"Yes," he answered, feeling his chest tighten against the scream he wanted to let fly. He'd screamed so much during his drunken haze – screamed at Felix, at Hargrove, at Price, at the simulation troopers, at the freelancers, at Chorus, at him _self_ – screaming to unmake that last choice, screaming at Felix not to be dead, pleading with him, apologizing, begging for forgiveness. He'd give anything to take it back.

"You'd give anything for it to not be real…for it to just be a bad dream. You would trade anything for him…anything at all to get him back," she said, giving voice to his exact thoughts. For an instant, he could see him as he'd been in that last moment – on his knees, hand reaching out…

"Felix," he exhaled on a broken breath, fingers twitching, aching to reach out – but then the image was gone, and he was alone again. "I never told him…there was something…I had to say to him. Goddammit, _I need him back,_ " he whispered, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, fighting for each painful breath he drew into his tangled chest.

"Then I think I can help you," she whispered in his ear before standing up.

"W-what?" he mumbled, looking up at her.

"Have you buried him yet?" she asked. Her words weren't making sense to him, but the expression on her face was infinitely gentle.

"No…I couldn't. He's below," he said. It wasn't a pretty sight, but the suit had still protected from a lot of the typical damage.

"Good. Then we may still have time," she said before heading out of the room, toward the basement level of the safe house.

"Hey…wait," Locus called after her, reminding himself not to move too quickly as he climbed out of the bed, slowly following her to the stairs.

When he arrived at the bottom of the stairs, it was to see Gwen standing beside his partner's body, connecting a sensor to his helmet. The slender cable connected to a small device she held in her hand.

"What are you doing?" he asked, but she didn't answer. The device answered for her several moments later when it gave a series of beeps.

"Unit intact. Subject: Felix Choi. Status: viable specimen," a dispassionate A.I. voice reported.

"Excellent," Gwen said as she detached the sensor. "This will work."

"What?" Locus demanded as he came up behind her, trying not to look at his partner. " _What_ will work?"

"Felix is a perfect candidate. Locus, I cannot change what happened, but in exchange for your help, I _can_ give you what you want," she said as she turned to face him.

"What do you _mean?_ "

"I mean _Felix,_ Locus. I can give you back your partner."

XxX

(A/N) Small note, I'm not sure if the translation is correct, but Gin's nickname for Mitch is meant to be 'little shooting star'.


	3. To Break it Back Down

(A/N) Wow, guys, I am _so_ sorry it took me so long to get these chapters out. I just had to get my little steampunk AU off the ground and then the holidays got super busy at the bookstore. Now all that madness is done, though, I should definitely be able to dedicate a more reasonable amount of time to my stories.

So…y'know what's really hard about writing RvB fic? Actually writing the Red and Blue characters. This is the first real opportunity I've had to stretch my writing wings when it comes to the BGC, so hopefully I didn't do _too_ bad on that. We'll just have to see what y'all think.

 **When Angels Fall (With Broken Wings)**

 _Chapter 3: To Break it Back Down_

Even though Wash did understand Carolina's concerns for his health after he'd been dead for two minutes, if she was going to insist on treating him like an invalid, he might just have to remind her that he was, in fact, a bad ass space marine. Except for the lingering question of how one went about proving themselves to their warrior princess of an older sister and her psycho doctor friend; there was that tiny issue.

Wash was ready to get back into armor, but Dr. Grey insisted that he stay off his feet for an additional twenty-four hours so she could monitor him, just to be certain he wasn't still at risk from the akaythius poisoning. As such, it meant she was requiring him to have a serious discussion with the rest of the group in nothing but his boxers and a T-shirt. He'd been about ready to fight her on this, but had been doubly threatened by her and Carolina. Carolina with the revealing of the story about the cat in the shoebox and Emily with her own special cocktail of drugs that would knock out his motor functions for the requisite twenty-four hours. It was bad enough the Reds and the Blues were going to be finding out that Carolina used to change his diapers. They didn't need the complete escapades of David L. Church on top of that. All of this, of course, brought them to the present moment, with Wash sitting in his cot in Emily's infirmary, surrounded on all sides by their odd little family, including Emily and Kimball. While everyone had their helmets off, it didn't help the situation overly much. Carolina was standing against the wall next to Wash's cot and she was the one to finally speak.

"So I guess by now Tucker's spread the word to all of you."

"Yeah. Return of the scariest fucking mute in the galaxy. The Meta 2. Seriously, can we _never_ catch a break?" Simmons lamented, sounding like he might actually cry. "We just survived the mercenaries from hell. Now we have to do _this_ all over again. Why can't this guy just _stay dead?_ "

"You finished?" Wash asked, raising an eyebrow at the maroon soldier.

"No. No, we're not, actually," Grif started. "Some of us were thinking we might actually get to take a _break_ after saving an entire fucking planet. Now we get to deal with _this?_ What does the guy want this time? Guess we are up to our ears in A.I. fragments at the moment."

"Grif!" Carolina snapped.

"What? Church snaps himself into a million pieces and suddenly I'm supposed to be nice to him? Fuck that noise."

"Yeah, you can just shut up about that one," Tucker said with a glare.

Grif shot back a glare of his own. "What are _you_ complaining about? You're the entire reason it happened. And you got yourself a shiny new suit out of the deal."

" _Grif,_ " Simmons started in shock.

Tucker turned to face the orange-clad soldier head on, glaring fit to kill. "Say that again, man. I fucking dare you. You'll find out just how shiny this suit is."

"Would you all kindly _shut the hell up?_ " Wash snarled at them. He might've gotten up from the cot were it not for Carolina's hand on his shoulder, holding him down. "I get that it's been a rough few years, and I get that we're all hurting right now, but is it really such a tremendous undertaking for me to ask my own goddamn friends to help me save someone I love? It's not the Meta we're talking about here. It's _Maine._ "

"Maybe wanna clue us in on what the difference is there, son?" Sarge suggested.

Wash sighed heavily at this. Maybe it would've been better if he'd explained everything before, but he wouldn't have known how. Trying to remember the good times with Maine had always been too painful, but…now that he had a chance to get that back…

"That creature we fought…what you guys knew as the Meta…did you ever _once_ hear me refer to it as Maine?" Wash asked them, near daring them to say otherwise with his stern gaze.

"Well…no. I guess not," Donut was the one to finally answer.

"That's because that _thing_ wasn't Maine. As far as I knew, Maine had died during the Break-in. The Meta was just using what was left of him. I never talked about Maine because I didn't want to confuse the issue for anyone. The Meta was our enemy. Maine was…he's…"

"Oh, don't worry, Wash. Tucker told us all about the Maine-chicka-Wash-Wash," Caboose said with a dopey smile. "I think you and Big Kitty would've been really sweet."

"Uh…did you just refer to the Meta as a kitten?" Tucker asked his younger teammate.

"Si ese hijo de puta es un gatito, soy un elefante enano con las alas rosadas," Lopez put in.

Whatever else they might have said, Wash and Carolina didn't quite catch it. At Caboose's words, they looked to each other with mild confusion in their eyes, both just staring before their faces finally cracked into matching grins. He probably had no idea, but the younger blue's words had helped to ease things, even if only a little bit. Struggling not to chuckle, the freelancer siblings turned back to their teammates, amused by just how true Caboose's out there statements had been.

"I…probably wouldn't have used those exact words, but yes. Maine and I were a couple."

"Lovey dovey space marines, I get that part. What I _don't_ get is how you know it really is him. I mean, we all saw him die," Grif pointed out. "Some of us a little more up close and personal than others."

"I know because I saw him last night," Wash said firmly. "Carolina did, too. The A.I. confirmed it. It was him."

"If I may," Doc started, raising a hand. "What exactly happened last night? So far we've just gotten a jumbled picture of you almost dying and that Maine and some A.I. and other freelancers were involved. A little clarification would be nice."

"Basically…I went for a walk last night and Maine came to the base to try and see me. But then he got it into his head that he was putting me in danger somehow."

"Not entirely untrue," Emily pointed out.

" _Anyway,_ he tried to go back to the jungle, but I'd already seen him. I went after him. We had…a few moments before Gin and Mitch attacked us."

"And they are…?" Simmons pressed.

"Agents Virginia and Michigan," Carolina took up the explanation. "It looks like they're working for someone here on Chorus. We'd thought Gin was in prison all this time and Mitch…she really should be dead."

"Why's that?" Sarge asked.

"Mitch was badly injured during one of our missions back in the day. She took a massive shock to her neural implants and the circuitry got fried. The neural pathways were damaged beyond repair. She was basically brain dead," Wash offered, only just then thinking of how close he must've come to a similar fate when Locus had shot him. "It would've been better for them to just let her die, but Gin wouldn't allow it."

"Allow it? What? Was she his girlfriend or something?" Grif asked.

"No. _God,_ no," Carolina said with a slight shudder. "They grew up together. They were more like siblings. Whatever it was, Gin had the power to decide, and he wasn't willing to let her go. Until last night, I hadn't seen either of them since the Break-in."

"So…if this Mitch is supposed to be brain dead, how is it she attacked you?" Simmons asked.

"Maybe she's a zombie…or a clone. Oh, my God. She's a _clone zombie!_ " Caboose proclaimed, eyes widening in amazement. The rest of the group just rolled their eyes in fond exasperation.

"Yes, Caboose. She's a clone zombie," Tucker said placatingly.

"I knew it."

"Hey, zombie might not be too far off the mark, for all these freelancers don't wanna fucking _stay dead,_ " Grif put in.

"They're not zombies," Wash said with a long-suffering sigh. "Mitch's body was being controlled by an A.I."

Following this, there was a long moment of silence, which was only broken when Tucker finally continued with, "Yeah. Cuz that sounds _way_ less totally fucking impossible than clone zombies."

"There's more than one clone zombie?" Caboose asked, suddenly looking fearful.

"Oh, boy," Wash sighed, briefly burying his face in his hands. He knew his friends could be capable soldiers when they _really_ wanted to be, but sometimes…just…oh, boy.

"Mm, yes, impossible," Carolina picked up the slack. "Because none of you have _ever_ seen an A.I. take control of someone. Never. Not once. Clearly we've been reading too much science fiction."

"Yeah, but this is a little different than all those other times. There was actually a person still present to take control of," Simmons pointed out. "Can an A.I. really just take full control without a human mind being present?"

"If last night is anything to go by, I'm going to go with yes," Carolina said.

"It's really not at all outside the realm of possibility," Emily started in. "If the neural pathways could be repaired enough to accept a new cognitive model, an artificial intelligence could easily move in and just…wear the human being like a suit," she said with her usual chipper smile, mindless of the words that were coming out of her mouth.

Carolina raised an eyebrow, an odd half smile turning up the corners of her mouth. "Since when did _you_ become an expert in cognitive impression modeling theory?"

"Last night."

The former freelancer shook her head. "Of course. Don't know why I even asked."

"So who _was_ the A.I. controlling your friend?" Doc asked. "Anyone we know?"

"Ah…not exactly. None of Epsilon's fragments recognized him, but…he claimed to be one of the Freelancer A.I.s, and considering his effect on the collective, we're pretty sure he was telling the truth."

"And…what effect was that?" Simmons asked.

"I couldn't tell you exactly what happened. Something _like_ it happened back during the project. This one…he reached out to them…and whatever he did, they were all in _agony,_ " Carolina whispered, the memory of it still sharp in her mind – the pain of each fragment raw and scraping over every nerve – and at that, she realized it still must have been only a fraction of what Wash had suffered with Epsilon. "This A.I. …he identified himself as Omicron…and I don't know how, but he's _definitely_ one of Project Freelancer's A.I."

"But…weren't all the A.I. destroyed? Y'know, when you took out Freelancer command?" Donut asked Wash.

Wash winced at this. While he hadn't been conscious for it, Carolina had told him what all she'd seen last night and…well…apparently they just needed to stop assuming people were dead. "That was the popular theory, yes, but there was one other A.I. present last night that…sharply calls that fact into question."

"And that was…?" Doc pressed, moving his hands in a circle to urge Wash to continue.

"Sigma," Carolina answered. "Sigma was there, too."

"Sigma? The one who fucking _started_ the Meta? Jesus Christ, Wash, have you ever actually managed to kill _anything?_ " Tucker griped at the former freelancer.

"I wiped the complex with an EMP. That _should_ have worked," Wash ground out. "I have no _idea_ why Sigma's not dead."

"So the Meta _is_ still alive," Sarge pointed out.

"Not necessarily," Carolina stepped in again. "Sigma's the only one we can say for sure isn't destroyed. Omicron was never part of the Meta. Until we know more, all we can do is assume that only Sigma's still around. I'd like to say that if it's just him alone, he's not as much of a threat, but I think we all know _that's_ not true," she said, glancing uncertainly at her brother.

"Who was he paired with then? Virginia?" Doc asked, voice suddenly slipping more into the Omega tone. "Is that agent likely to succumb to Sigma's wiles?"

"No. It wasn't Gin. There was one other freelancer there last night. Sigma was with her…and she was the one who poisoned Wash. Agent Kansas. She definitely won't succumb to Sigma…but there's also no guarantee she's perfectly sane."

"Is there even any such _thing_ as a sane freelancer?" Grif questioned, and there was another long stretch of silence before Wash offered up a response.

"Touche. But you should know that Kansas is a little bit worse than your run of the mill nut job, and she always had this really bizarre fixation with Maine and I. I don't know how yet, but I'd say it's all got to be connected somehow."

"But who are these agents working for?" Kimball finally spoke up. "It couldn't have been the Federal Army or the New Republic and we took out Charon. Who else is left?"

Carolina and Wash looked to each other at this question. They were finally about to broach the subject of their most closely guarded secret. More than likely after this moment, everything would be different.

"We do have a theory on that," Wash said when the pair looked back to their friends. "Before Kansas knocked me out, she and Gin were saying something about Dr. Gwendolyn Dorokhov being on Chorus. She was a geneticist with Project Freelancer."

"Hold up. You're talking about _the_ Gwendolyn Dorokhov?" Emily suddenly interrupted. "As in the Dorokhov Principle for Flash Mitosis? Dorokhov's Laws of Cloning?"

"That's the one," Wash said. It was almost surreal to hear someone speak about his aunt in reference to her actual profession. He sometimes forgot how the rest of the galaxy saw his Aunt Gwen.

"And you mean to say she's _here?_ On _Chorus?_ " the doctor pressed, sounding even more excited.

"Looks that way. We don't know why. Neither of us has had any contact with her since the Break-in. Guess that makes us a pretty bad niece and nephew," Wash said as he looked to his sister again, trying to be casual about what he was saying.

"Well, for differing periods during all that time, we've been in psych wards, prisons, in hiding, and dead. I can see where she wouldn't have expected to hear from us," Carolina responded.

"Wait a second. You two have the same aunt?" Tucker was the one to ask, finally putting together just what Carolina had said.

"Yes," Wash said.

"But…then…that means…" Simmons started.

"No," Grif said slowly. "No _way._ "

"Wait for it," Carolina said, resting a hand on her brother's shoulder yet again.

Caboose pointed and began to clap excitedly. "You two are totally cousins! Maybe even _twin_ cousins!"

Both siblings immediately felt the tension in their shoulders break. "Uh…no. Not really, no. A little warmer there, though. Keep trying," Wash encouraged.

"Well…if you're not cousins, and you have the same aunt, that means that you share at least one parent…and that means… _oh, my God,_ " Donut said, working his way through the not so complex equation.

"Sweet Sam Hill, the two of you are brother and sister," Sarge was the one to finally say it out loud. "Meh, I saw that comin' like a year ago."

"Wait…seriously?" Carolina asked.

"Nope," the older man said as he crossed his arms, leaning back against the far wall. "But it sounded awesome to say it, just the same."

"Madre de Dios, esto se supone que es una comedia de ciencia ficción. Cuándo nos convertimos drama diurno?" Lopez almost seemed to grumble.

"Any particular reason _why_ you guys didn't feel the need to mention that one to us?" Tucker asked with a mildly horrified expression. "I am now feeling majorly dirty about some of the things I thought about the last two freelancers. Like…we're talking Star Wars dirty here. Seriously, why keep a lid on that one?"

"Force of habit from the Freelancer days, I guess," Wash said with a shrug. "We didn't talk about it a lot back then and we just kept not talking about it."

"But _why?_ " Simmons pressed. "Was there something wrong with people knowing you guys were siblings? They knew the Dakotas were siblings. What's different about the two of you?"

"It was just…better not to call attention to that fact," Carolina said, gaze drifting down to where her hand rested on Wash's shoulder.

"There's one other thing about us you guys don't know, and it's pretty much the reason for everything," Wash said, feeling his voice become heavy in his throat. "We're not half siblings. We share the same parents, but in this case, the parent in question is our father. Our father…was Dr. Leonard Church, the director of Project Freelancer."

This time, the ensuing silence was broken by Donut, who started to hum the Imperial March.

"Goddammit, this shit is just getting more Star Wars by the minute," Tucker chimed in.

"Terminado. Cien por ciento terminado," Lopez put in.

"Uh…you guys didn't know that?" Caboose asked, glancing around at all the others.

"Blue…are you tryin' to say you actually _knew_ the Director was their old man?" Sarge asked as all eyes in the room moved to the youngest sim trooper.

"Well, I mean, yeah, duh. You guys don't see it? Come on!" Caboose said, gesturing his hands emphatically toward the freelancer siblings. "Wash is Church."

"Are you kidding me? I always thought you just couldn't keep the two of them straight. There's no way you actually knew that," Tucker said, gaze darting between Wash and Caboose.

"Yeah, I'm not entirely convinced that's _not_ the case," Wash said, staring uncertainly at the younger man. It had unnerved him when the simple trooper had at first insisted on calling him by his last name. Caboose had been so insistent that he _was_ Church and for a long while, Wash had convinced himself that it was Caboose's inability to deal with Epsilon's loss that had lead him to do it. After all, there was no way the sim trooper could _possibly_ know who he really was – was there?

"No, really," Caboose tried to argue, shaking his head and briefly clapping his hands over his ears. "It was there all the time. The scary lady said so."

"Scary lady?" Tucker asked. "Are you talking about Carolina?"

"Or about Tex?" Simmons continued.

"Noo," Caboose whined, crossing his arms and pouting as he turned away from them. "The friend lady. She was my best friend first and she told me _all_ about Church so that _we_ would be best friends. But then she…sorta…I…I was…" As his voice trailed off into nothing, a look of sheer horror spread across the younger blue's face. For a moment, his lower lip trembled, as if he were going to burst into tears. But then, just as suddenly, his face lit up and he smiled at them. "So when are we going to find the friends?"

"Aaaand we've lost him," Tucker said.

"Hold up a sec. Caboose…what _was_ all that?" Wash asked him, moving to get up, but just as quickly held down by his sister.

"Very interesting is what it was," Emily put in, eyeing Caboose up and down. "I never got a response like _that_ during our sessions. Perhaps we triggered something?"

"Don't bother, you guys. You're not gonna get sense out of him," Tucker reminded them. "Pretty sure if what Caboose said actually made sense, we just might understand the mysteries of the universe."

"Hold on," Simmons suddenly interrupted. "If the Director was your dad…you were going to kill your own _father?_ "

Grif rolled his eyes. "Yeah, cuz this group has historically had such _great_ parental relationships."

Wash could feel Carolina's brief spike of anger through her grip on him. He didn't need to look up at her to see the emotion he knew was in her eyes.

"After what he did to my brother, his own son…to all of us…of _course_ I was going to kill him. I was going to make him _pay_ …but I found out I didn't need to. There was nothing we could've done that would make him suffer worse than he already had."

"What's done is done," Wash added quietly, reaching his own hand up to lay it on Carolina's. "The Director is past…but Maine is now. I don't _want_ to believe our aunt is involved in this. The Gwen we knew would never keep Maine prisoner against his will, but it's been a long time since we've seen her, and I'm afraid she really might be involved somehow. I know I have no right to ask this of you guys. It's my burden, but…Grif…if you thought Simmons was dead for a long time…and you suddenly found out he'd been alive and imprisoned all that time…what would you do?"

At this, Grif closed his eyes and sighed. After several moments, he opened them again, shaking his head. "Aw, who the fuck am I kidding? Of course we're with you. But just in case anybody's curious, I'm keeping the Grif shot. Your boyfriend can't have it back."

"Yeah, good luck with that, man," Simmons said with a snicker.

Wash couldn't quite help the smile that worked its way across his face as his gaze moved from the Reds and Blues up to his sister, who was also smiling faintly. Really, he should've known they wouldn't hold any of it against them. Despite their oddness as soldiers, they'd proven time and time again that they were good guys. There was no way they'd leave a man behind.

"Don't worry," Carolina said quietly, just to him. "We'll get him back."

 _Hold on, Matt. Just hold on a little longer. I'll find you. I won't let you down this time._

XxX

Ben Walker yawned as he moved onto the bridge of his ship, _Lilith_. He hadn't had much of a rest during the night cycle, but when you were a fugitive from the law, you tended to take what you could get.

"How are we looking?" he asked the pilot as he came up behind her.

Dee Carson's ginger hair was pulled back into a single braid, but several strands were coming loose from it and there were large dark circles under her eyes. Even so, there was still an exuberant smile on her face. She was in her element behind the controls of a ship. Unfortunately, this lead to her not getting a lot of sleep, as she preferred not to relinquish the helm to anyone else, but so long as she wasn't falling asleep at the wheel, Ben was content to let her fly. Plus, she had the help of her AI, an unassuming aqua-colored construct named Phi whose preferred shape was a young man in a wheelchair.

"Smooth sailing, CO. Charon's jammers are completely down and I've had zero interference from the tractor beam. Looks like dear old Chairman is really down for the count. We should be touching down on Chorus just in time for breakfast if you wanna start waking the others up."

Ben chuckled quietly as he sat down next to Dee and Phi. "Is there any point in asking you to drop the CO thing? I haven't been Agent Colorado in a long time. Haven't been anyone's commanding officer in even longer."

"No point at all," the pilot said in a chipper tone. "Doesn't matter where we end up, Benton. You'll always be our CO. Even Carolina said so."

Like himself, Dee hadn't been an agent of Project Freelancer in many years, but her nickname could serve as shorthand for either her actual name, Diana, or her code name, Indiana. She had the luxury of not having to pick and choose.

"Think any of the others still use the old agent names?" she asked him as she prepped the ship for reentry.

"Gwen almost never does, of course. Kansas always seemed to prefer the codename and I suppose Gin and Jim are similar enough it doesn't matter for him. Maine, I think, is just used to living under a codename – first with SPARTAN, then with Freelancer. I know Delaware won't go by anything else and I'm pretty sure Wash and Carolina have beef with their proper names, so it suits them better to use the codenames. All told, it seems most of us have things we'd rather keep hidden," the old soldier commented as he watched Chorus grow larger in the forward view port.

"And…do you think they're really still down there? Even after all this time?" Dee asked, stealing a quick glance at him.

"I have no doubt. With everything Gwen and Thea have done, I'm sad to say the genocide of an entire planet must seem like nothing to them. Thea doesn't care and Gwen, well…she's probably rationalized it to herself a hundred times over by now," Ben said sadly. Sometimes he really thought he might break down and cry if he thought too long on just how far Gwen Dorokhov had fallen from the caring woman he'd once known.

"And I don't suppose it's at all dangerous to go after them now. Y'know, what with the UNSC just a few hours behind us and all," the pilot said with a good-natured roll of her eyes.

Ben just chuckled at his younger friend's levity. "Dee, I wash my hands of it. You all _knew_ how dangerous this would be. You had the chance to get off back at Isis. Me, I'm in this thing until the end."

"Heh, you know we'd never leave you, CO. Be a pretty odd time for it, given the other shit storms we've lived through. But I am in so far in blood that sin will pluck on sin…or whatever Shakespeare shit Gin would've said."

"Are we sure we want to be talking about blood when we could potentially be heading into a dangerous battle?" Phi asked nervously, crimson light briefly coloring his aqua form. "I don't know that this is a situation William Shakespeare could've ever imagined."

Ben couldn't quite help chuckling at Dee and Phi's words. Unfortunately, the chuckling was just a little too much when taken together with the lack of sleep and the harsh forces of reentry on his body. Slumping in his chair, the former freelancer began to cough.

"You okay?" Dee asked when the coughing stretched beyond a minute, immediately turning her attention to him.

"Ben, are you all right?" the voice of his own AI, Lambda, suddenly sounded in his head as she came online, her peach-colored figure shimmering into being beside his head. "You haven't had enough sleep. What are you doing up?"

"Fine. I'm fine," he lied, waving them off once the fit had passed. "The old ticker's still going. I just need to get back into armor. You should probably do the same once we've touched down, Dee."

Dee gave him a very pointed look that plainly told him she knew he was lying through his teeth, but she chose not to comment on it. After all, they all knew just how bad off he was. What need was there to discuss it? They knew what he'd come here to do.

"Think the others are up yet?" the pilot asked instead, turning her full attention back to guiding _Lilith_ through reentry.

"Meg's up already. I saw her in the kitchen on my way up. It's the other two I'm not sure about. Jonah could sleep through a hurricane, after all, and if he's not up, Elsie won't have any reason to be. So really, it all depends on him," Ben said with a faint smile.

Sighing fondly as she rolled her eyes, Dee sent a direct communication line to the bunk the former Agents Nebraska and Missouri shared. "You two had better hang on down there. I won't be held responsible if you break your necks during a routine reentry. If you have anything to say, you can come say it in person once we're planet side," she said, smirking to herself as she cut the link, disengaging it just as quickly as she'd engaged it to begin with.

"Elsie won't let that sit, you know. Especially if they were in the middle of something," Ben reminded her.

"Oh, I know. Can't help it, I guess. Jonah's a fucking easy mark and Elsie's like the little sister I never wanted. I've _always_ got to put my two cents in with the two of them. They'll probably need another good talking to before we're neck deep in shit creek all over again. Don't tell me you're gonna start taking my fun away, too," the pilot whined.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Ben said with an easy shake of his head.

 _Hell knows you'll need as many chances for fun as you can get before we go head to head with Thea again._

 _You really ought to get some more rest, Ben,_ Lambda told him privately, her tones laced with concern. _Dee has things taken care of. Maybe you could sleep a little longer._

 _Even if I wanted to, I couldn't sleep, Lamb. We're running short on time here. I'll sleep when…when it's over,_ he told her, as much as he knew it pained her, because if anyone knew the words he hadn't let form, Lambda did. She was going to stick by him until the bitter end, no matter how much of a stubborn old fool he was. They were all going to stick by him, and even if he never said it, he appreciated it. He appreciated the little family they'd formed from the ashes of Project Freelancer. He could only hope Leonard's kids had been as lucky.

XxX

Not for the first time in the intervening twenty-four hours, Locus found himself wondering if he really _had_ recovered from the alcohol poisoning.

Everything seemed to be happening in a daze. He'd gotten back into armor and helped Gwen transport Felix's body to her compound. She'd explained to him that he probably wouldn't want to watch what she had to do next, but he hadn't wanted to leave, so he'd watched her laser open his partner's skull and remove his brain. Then she'd loaded the dead organ into a machine and she'd been running the CIM scans on it for the last half hour.

"How exactly is this different from what the director of Project Freelancer attempted to do?" the former mercenary found himself asking as he watched the geneticist go about her work.

"The chief tenet of cognitive impression modeling is that the human brain being used for the base remain just that – a base. A foundation for the artificial intelligence to build upon," the doctor began to explain as she ran a series of numbers through her computer. "The resulting consciousness will be very similar to its progenitor, but never will it be an exact match for that human mind. And that's the point. It removes the possibility of existential dilemma for the AI, allowing it to function as it's meant to…as a computer program. This was what Leonard was attempting to overcome in his quest to bring back my sister."

"So you've figured out a way around that?" Locus pressed.

"Just so. You see, as a geneticist, there are certain aspects of the human brain I have access to that Leonard never did. The thin of it being that I can cultivate an exact copy of Felix's mind, instead of a mind simply modeled after his."

"And this is preferable to simply…cloning him?" Locus asked, gaze lingering on the scanner that contained his partner's brain.

"It is. Apart from it being slightly less than legal, the trouble with simply cloning a human subject is that you can't recreate the human experiences. The clone would be subject to its own lived experiences. This is why I put all of my efforts into creating clone bodies without higher brain function. The AI consciousness will simply be inserted into the clone brain and it will be as if the person had never died. If you want back the man you lost, Locus, this is the only way to do it," she said as she looked up from the console. "I can do this for you. I just want you to be certain it's what you want."

When Gwen reached out to rest her hand on his shoulder, it was like they were back in the safe house, with him out of armor and vulnerable. With Gwen Dorokhov, it felt almost like she could see through him – like the armor wasn't there at all. After what he'd been through with Felix, he almost thought he should feel manipulated by this, but in the short time he'd known this woman, he'd felt a strange sort of sincerity from her. Maybe he was being a complete moron about this, but he couldn't quite help trusting her.

"I want this. This is what I want," he repeated, more for himself than for her. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he _knew_ something felt off about this whole situation, but he was perfectly willing to ignore that something because he knew he couldn't live like this. He _needed_ Felix back. "How long will it take?"

"The cloning process will take roughly a month to complete, but the modeling should be finished in about twenty-four hours. Just in time for you to perform your first assignment."

"And what is that?"

"Not anything you're unfamiliar with," a new voice announced as its owner entered the lab. Locus looked up to see a soldier in gray and blue armor, flanked by two other soldiers, one in gray and red and the other in brown and red. "We'll just be bringing down the latest UNSC frigate to hit our atmosphere."

Locus glanced briefly between the three soldiers and Gwen, features forming into a scowl beneath his visor. "I was under the impression these tasks _wouldn't_ involve murder."

"Relax, grasshopper. We've got no need to kill anyone. We just need to convince them not to report back to the UNSC for a month," the first soldier said as he came toward him, reaching out to pound him on the shoulder. Before he could make contact, though, Locus snatched his wrist, stopping the motion mid-air.

"I did _not_ give you permission to touch me," he snapped at the soldier.

The former mercenary was used to reactions of fear from his fellow pirates. He might've even expected anger or indignance. What he _didn't_ expect was the breathy chuckle he got.

"We gonna dance, big boy? I might be a little rusty, but I'm always up for a few practice rounds," he said, and even though Locus couldn't see his face, he could practically _feel_ the smirk that must've been twisting the other man's lips. Almost before he was aware of what was happening, the gray and blue soldier was spinning out of his grip, coming to a stop a few feet away with his arms crossed over his chest and his hip jutted casually out to the side.

"A little consideration wouldn't go amiss, Gin," Gwen warned the soldier. "Locus has been through a lot these past few weeks."

"Guess our new friend's wet behind the ears in more ways than one," one of the other soldiers, the one in brown and red, suggested, his voice having the sound of someone older.

"Locus, I'd like you to meet Gin, Mitch, and Del," Gwen introduced each of the soldiers. "All former agents of Project Freelancer. They'll be your comrades in the coming weeks."

"Agent Virginia. Agent Michigan. Agent Delaware," Locus said slowly as he looked to each of them, the images and names from the captured files gradually coalescing in his mind. "Are there any other remnants lurking around that I should know about?"

"Just Kansas, but you'll meet her later. She's not joining us on this one," Gin explained.

"Why not?"

"Gwen put her in time out. She just about killed Wash and Carolina a few nights back, so she's on lockdown," the gray and blue armored agent continued. "Normally _she's_ in the lead for this sort of thing, but she just couldn't leave well enough alone."

"Just might be the reason our good doc saw fit to bring you onboard," Del added with a shrug and a chuckle.

"Well, I don't know how _you_ get through life, Del, but I for one think it better to avoid unnecessary death," Gwen said. "I think the decisions Locus has made are very admirable, and unless I'm much mistaken, you all have a flight to catch."

"Right you are, boss. Don't worry, grasshopper, you won't have to do much. Just stand in place and look intimidating. I'm pretty sure you can handle that," Gin started to explain as he led his new team from the lab.

Once the soldiers had gone, Price entered from a hidden observation area.

"How does he seem to you?" Gwen asked the former counselor without looking back at him.

"He seems…certain. And with a man like Lucas Amidah, that is almost more dangerous. While he has kept a narrow focus in the past he has been uncertain of him _self_ before now. I cannot say that I would trust to his continuing stability…especially if your efforts should come up short."

"They won't. The process will work. I've _seen_ it work," the doctor said firmly as she turned a frosty gaze to her former colleague.

"Yes…in separate stages, but Felix will be your first attempt to combine each process into a single coherent individual," he reminded her sharply.

"Your lack of faith notwithstanding, you have other purposes to serve here, Aiden. Would you say I can count on the boy's loyalty? At least until the process is complete?"

"You won't have to worry about that. Lord knows what you did during your first encounter, but Locus seems to have latched onto you…perhaps even in the capacity of a mother figure," Price said, briefly glancing at the modeling in progress.

"A little human decency goes a long way, Aiden. Heaven knows that boy could do with a mother figure after everything he's been through. I failed my own family one time too many. I have no intention of failing Lucas. I just need to be sure he'll stick with us until the end," she said as she turned her focus back to her work.

"As I said, you've nothing to fear there. He won't turn on you. I just don't know that he'll remain mentally stable, and that could go wrong for either us _or_ the simulation troopers," Price warned her.

"Then we'll just have to do our best to _keep_ him stable, now won't we," she said, once again half ignoring him.

"Do you plan to tell him you have Agent Maine here?" he asked her all of a sudden.

"It hasn't come up yet. Is there a terribly compelling reason I shouldn't?" she asked, idly pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose while she typed with one hand.

"Only that you should be aware. Locus has a…particular interest in Agent Maine and the Meta. I would advise controlling the manner in which he learns this information."

"As you will, but I have no intention of lying to him."

"Really? Because it seems to me you may have lied to Agent Virginia," the former counselor couldn't quite help pointing out.

Pausing in her work, Gwen looked up from her computer, staring at nothing in particular for several moments before answering.

"I haven't lied. I've done my best for Mitch. If he chooses to invest more hope in what I _have_ said than can reasonably be inferred, that's hardly my fault."

"And yet you still find yourself in need of his services…or perhaps simply his presence," Price suggested. "What does it say about you, I wonder, that the only way you can hold onto human companionship is through half-truths?"

Once again, Gwen's expression hardened as her gaze zeroed in on him. "When I want a psychological profile, I'll ask for it. You would do well to remember I'm in a perfect position to hand you right back to the UNSC. I sincerely doubt you would be so lucky as to be happened upon by a pair of mercenaries working for a dirty politician a second time."

"Of course. Perhaps I was out of line. I apologize," the psychiatrist said, putting on a contrite front, but secretly pleased that he'd managed to get to the woman, even if it had only been in the smallest of ways. In his current position, he was willing to take whatever victories he could get.

XxX

The original plan when the UNSC arrived had been for the Reds and Blues to travel immediately to Earth, but with the new information about Maine, Kansas, and Gwen, Wash and Carolina knew they'd have to convince whoever showed up that they'd need to delay their return. And if they couldn't convince them, Wash had every intention of defying them. It wasn't as if he was a stranger to defying the UNSC; it was just this would all be much easier with them on his side. As such, he found himself on edge, even though he was grateful to finally be back in his armor.

The UNSC _Breaking Light_ was currently in orbit around Chorus, having arrived earlier that morning. After Emily had cleared Wash, Kimball had had the Reds and Blues accompany her back to the comm tower, where the frigate was sending an advance party to meet with the Chorus leaders and ascertain just what sort of aid was needed.

The area surrounding the tower was still very much in chaos, with both Chorus and pirate dead still to be gathered up. They'd made a half-hearted attempt at locating Felix's remains, but they'd had no luck. None of them had really expected to find him or Locus. With any luck, the remaining mercenary was halfway across the galaxy by now. Most of the pirates who'd survived the battle were in custody, but there was a handful that remained free. Wash and Carolina would've been hunting them were it not for the strange events of the past few days. Now that would be left to the soldiers the _Breaking Light_ dropped off.

They'd been awaiting the arrival of the frigate's advance ship for about half an hour when they caught sight of the small craft descending through the clouds. Wash thought he might've heard Grif grumbling about making them wait, but he really couldn't have cared less. If the orange-clad trooper needed to bitch in order to vent, then let him. The former freelancer's attention was focused completely on the UNSC ship as it docked beside the comm tower.

When the ship's ramp lowered, a cadre of soldiers trooped out in full gear. They were followed by a figure who was clearly their commanding officer – a soldier suited in dark green armor accented in white. The thing that really drew Wash's gaze, though, was the EVA helmet that topped the suit. There seemed to be entirely too many of those in his world recently. As if this wasn't strange enough on its own, when the soldier began to speak, Wash could have sworn there was something almost…familiar about her voice.

"I recognize most of you from the Freelancer reports," the woman started as she moved toward them through her troops. When she reached Kimball, she came to a stop. "So that would make you General Vanessa Kimball."

"Yes, Ma'am," Kimball said, offering her a salute. "You have no idea how grateful we are to finally see you."

"I'm Commander Roxana Hawthorne. The _Breaking Light_ is under the command of Captain Jonathan Christopher. I have a team prepared to hunt for the remainder of Charon's thugs. I've also been instructed to assess your medical situation before further personnel are deployed."

Whatever Kimball's response was, Wash didn't hear it. The name Hawthorne had struck a chord in his memory. Hawthorne – Maine's name, Matt Hawthorne…and Roxana. She sounded so familiar. It couldn't possibly be – could it?

"Roxy?" he suddenly interrupted whatever conversation she and Kimball had been having. Commander Hawthorne turned her head sharply in his direction.

"Excuse me?" she started, clearly recognizing the old name.

"Roxy," he repeated, taking a step forward without even thinking. "It _is_ you, isn't it. It's been so long."

"Who _are_ you?" the commander asked, tilting her head uncertainly to the side.

"Roxy, it's _me._ It's David. David Church," he explained as he pulled his helmet off to let her see his face. "Remember? Matt's boyfriend?"

For several long moments, the commander made no response. She just continued to stare at him. When Wash was really starting to think he just might have overstepped his bounds, she reached up and removed her own helmet. The face beneath the green and white EVA helmet was not that of the fresh-faced young ensign he remembered, but he imagined that his face wasn't fully the one she remembered either. After all, it had been near fourteen years since they'd last seen each other. Even so, he still recognized the pale, sharp features of the little spitfire he'd known in the woman that stood before him. Her black hair had gotten longer in the intervening years and there were a few new scars added to her face, but her eyes were still the same. The intense amber eyes that she shared with her brother looked back at him in shock.

Almost before Wash realized what was happening, the commander was hugging him. Despite the armor, he managed to hug her back. He could see several of her men shifting in surprise, but they all seemed to respect their commander enough to keep silent about her outburst.

"Dammit, David. I thought you were dead!" she growled, the strength of her embrace nearly matching that of her supersoldier brother. Wash managed a small laugh as he pounded her on the back.

"For a while there, I may as well have been. Jesus Christ, Roxy, you don't know how good it is to see you."

"So…you two have met," Carolina's voice suddenly broke into the conversation. Wash could hear her smirk without needing to see it on her face.

"We might have," Wash said, offering his sister the same smirk before putting his helmet back on. "Guys, this is Roxy. She's one of Maine's little sisters."

"I'm sorry. Did you just say _one of?_ " Grif asked.

"As in there's even more than _two_ Metas running around?" Simmons asked, sounding more than a little panicked.

"Pretty sure we had the Meta conversation already," Wash started warningly

"There are two remaining Hawthorne sisters, to be exact," Roxy said, looking slightly confused as she tucked her own helmet under her arm.

"So…is _this_ the one that's a clone zombie?" Caboose asked.

"Man, would you fucking forget about your clone zombies," Tucker snapped at his teammate.

"Uh, Tucker, they are not _my_ clone zombies. Duh. They're the Freelancer zombies. You should learn to pay better attention."

"Is it bad that what he said almost made sense?" Sarge wondered aloud.

"Yes. Yes, Sarge. That's actually a very bad thing," Grif pointed out.

"I dunno if I'd jump the gun on that one. Maybe the world's a lot less complicated from where Michael J. Caboose sits," Simmons put in, and after a moment of silence, he finished with a revelatory, "And I suddenly understand John Elizabeth Andersmith's philosophy on life a thousand times better."

Roxy blinked several times in confusion, gaze shifting between the sim troopers and the Church siblings. "What was that I heard about heroes?" she asked Wash.

"It…can take them a while to get a good momentum going," Wash granted. "But they'll surprise you."

"Normally I'd make a joke about getting _your_ momentum going," Tucker said to the commander. "But…I dunno. I've seen some shit, man."

"Appreciated," Roxy said, raising an eyebrow as she surveyed the aqua soldier, but her focus ultimately shifted back to Simmons. "What was that you said before? About there being more than two Metas?"

"Roxy," Wash started in before any of the others could say anything, realizing it might be his only chance to break things to her even semi-easily, "this is going to sound crazy, but Matt's not dead."

Roxy's expression hardened at this. She turned away from him and snapped her eyes shut, as if he'd physically struck her with his words. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying he's alive. He's here on Chorus. I've seen him. Carolina and I both have. I don't know how. I don't know _anything_ at this point. I just know we have to save him. You _can't_ take us back to Earth yet," Wash pleaded with her. He didn't know if it was coincidence or destiny or whatever, but somehow the universe had sent him the one person who would listen without question – who would have just as great a stake in saving Maine's life as he did. There was no way he was going to let that go.

For several moments, the entire assemblage just stood in silence, waiting for Roxana Hawthorne to make a call. When she finally looked up again, she turned her attention to the soldier who stood at her right shoulder.

"Hammond, I want you to coordinate with General Kimball to get the hunt for the pirates going. Report to me once you have a search grid underway."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And the rest of you," she continued as she turned her gaze back to Wash, "I'm going to have to get you to the captain."

XxX

Dr. Grey would admit she'd been on edge ever since Carolina had brought Wash to her, but the arrival of the _Breaking Light_ had managed to lighten the mood around her infirmary somewhat. She'd been looking forward to receiving some good news from Kimball on what kind of medical aid the UNSC was sending for them. What she got instead was a nightmare she'd believed she'd long ago woken up from.

It started when the door to her makeshift office suddenly slid shut and locked itself of its own accord. If there'd been any doubts in her mind as to what was happening, the lights suddenly flicked off, a series of pale blue emergency lights shuddering to life from the floor. For several moments, the doctor just stood in silence, waiting for something to happen.

That something finally came in the form of a child's voice singing an old lullaby – something from the distant past.

 _Just close your eyes_

 _The sun is going down_

 _You'll be all right_

 _No one can hurt you now_

 _Come morning light_

 _You and I'll be safe and sound_

"I don't think it's meant to scare me," Emily said quietly, tone dropping into something more serious than her put-on chipper tone. "You know better than that…Dorothy."

A voice that matched her own in intensity came over the comm, laughing before answering. "It's been such a long time since anyone's called me that name."

"I know. I hear you go by Thea now. Any particular reason you decided to change it?"

"Well, you know just what sort of sordid past I needed to cover up. Even Project Freelancer couldn't turn a blind eye to some of my more colorful escapades."

"Dorothy, why did you even join Freelancer? You're not exactly the warrior type," Emily pointed out, resisting the urge to turn and look to the comm unit. Her real opponent was no doubt hundreds of miles away and it would be child's play for her to take control of the base's security systems from wherever she was.

"I joined because Maine did. You've read the files by now. You _know_ who Agent Maine really is," Thea said, now with a layer of ice in her voice.

"I do," Emily responded, voice becoming quiet again as she moved toward her desk. "And you…you still blame him for-"

"For everything," Thea finished before she could. "I swore he would know what it felt like."

"Dorothy…please," Emily started, even though she didn't really believe this mad woman would hear her after all these years. "What happened wasn't Matt's fault. If you want someone to punish…punish me. This is my fault."

"I _will_ punish you, Emily, but not more than I punish Matt Hawthorne. You might not have been able to do what I asked, but he was the start of it. I want him to know what I felt that day."

"What? Watching him die once wasn't enough for you?" Emily pressed as she sat at the desk.

"No. Really, it may _never_ be enough, but that doesn't mean I won't keep trying," the former agent said, the sneer on her face quite plain to be heard in her voice.

"Why did you try to kill Wash?" the doctor asked after a moment of unsettled silence.

"I didn't, really. It was more of a calling card for you. After all, you knew it was me the moment he went into shock, didn't you."

"Yes," Emily conceded stiffly, remembering the unpleasant tremor of absolute terror that had gone down her spine…and the edge of hysteria she'd seen in Carolina's eyes that night…how she'd known with total certainty that if Wash died, Carolina wouldn't survive.

"I was confident you'd be fast enough to cure the strain this time…even though you've never been quite fast enough in the past," Thea said with an unsettling chuckle. "It also served to show Matt just how much control I have over events. Really, you should have heard the way he _screamed_ when Wash stopped breathing. You can tell little David I said that, too. I'm sure he'd _love_ to know how concerned his precious lover was for him. Though, on the subject of telling…have you told your friends about _us_ yet?"

"I haven't. There hasn't exactly been a good moment to bring it up. In truth, I'm hoping they never _have_ to find out."

Emily could just picture the woman who called herself Thea shaking her head as she spoke.

"No such luck there. They'll learn the truth sooner or later. I should think you'd rather tell them yourself…than to have them hear it from _me._ Then it just might seem like you were _trying_ to hide something from them. That might not go over so well, especially with my fellow freelancers. I understand you have an interest in my old roommate."

Emily couldn't quite stop the glare that worked its way across her face. It wasn't _that_ hard to figure out who Thea meant.

"Carolina has nothing to do with this. Leave her out of it."

"Mm, no. Afraid not. _You_ brought her into it when you decided she was worth…psychoanalyzing."

"Dorothy," Emily growled warningly, and Thea actually laughed to hear the sound.

"Your friends must not know how adorable you are when you're angry, duckling. Well…who but Matt or I has seen you angry _and_ afraid? Do you plan to let Carolina see all of you? If it makes you feel any better, I know for a fact that she's bisexual."

"What do you want me to do? What will it take for you to leave Carolina and Wash out of this?" Emily demanded, rubbing her temples in frustration.

"There's nothing you _can_ do, Emily. Leonard Church's children are just as much a part of this as you and Matt. They've become the key to everything now. It's awfully convenient, isn't it. The two people I hate most in the galaxy end up falling for a pair of siblings, and those siblings just suffer so _well_. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to seeing it."

"I don't know what you think you can do. What with the UNSC finally showing up and all," Emily pointed out. "If anything, you should have made your move during the war."

"Oh, I'm not worried. In fact, I'd say the _Breaking Light_ is about to have a few troubles of her own…right along with your friends."

"What have you done?" Emily asked, feeling a tremor of fear move down her spine at the exhilaration in the other woman's voice.

"It's not what I _have_ done, duckling. It's what I'm _about_ to do," Thea said, her voice cutting off just as the lights flickered back to life. Feeling panic begin to grip her, the doctor immediately set up an emergency line to Kimball.

"Doctor? What's happening back there? Why the urgency?" Kimball's voice came to her when she finally answered the call.

"Carolina and the others. Where are they?" Emily demanded.

"Flying back to the _Breaking Light_ with Commander Hawthorne to discuss the situation with Captain Christopher."

"No! They _can't!_ Vanessa, you have to stop them. Whatever it takes, you raise them and you tell them to get out. _Get out now!_ "

XxX

Like the rest of his friends, Wash had been slightly unnerved by Roxy's plan to fly them up to the _Breaking Light_. His first thought had been that Captain Christopher could easily ignore what they had to say and just haul their asses back to Earth. Roxy had given him her word, though – her promise that Christopher would listen if she asked him to. Apparently they'd been through hell together, and if Roxy trusted her captain, that was good enough for him.

Carolina seemed to be a little wary of his quick inclination to trust her, though. He'd felt the slight tension emanating from his sibling on the flight up from Chorus and now that they were being escorted through the corridors of the _Breaking Light,_ he wasn't at all surprised to hear her open up a private channel with him.

"So," she started, speaking to him without seeming like she was speaking to him, "you're awfully certain of a woman you haven't seen or spoken to for quite a few years. Are you sure you can still trust her?"

"Positive. Do you remember…it was just after the freeway, and they were sure Maine was going to live," he stumbled over the words, finding that even years later, he still had trouble not choking on them when he spoke them. "Do you remember when the old man let us go on leave together…so Maine could recover out of the field?"

"I remember," Carolina said, and he couldn't help noticing the slight tremor in her voice at the mention of the freeway.

"Roxy was able to get some leave time, too…to come see her brother…and we all stayed with Selina that month. Roxy and I just…I don't know. We got really close during that visit. I'd trust her with my life. She'll help us. She'll help us get him back," he said firmly.

Carolina probably would've said more, except that was the moment they were finally led onto the bridge of the _Breaking Light._ The ship's personnel were all busy going about their work and at the head of it all, Captain Jonathan Christopher stood waiting for them.

The captain was dressed in jet black armor that was accented with a very distinct neon green color. When Wash thought about it, it occurred to him that the man was actually fairly short, barely taller than Felix had been, but for some reason he didn't come off as being short. There was just some sort of presence about the man that belied his actual physical stature.

"Captain," Roxy started as she approached him, snapping him a salute. "These are the men and women of Blood Gulch we've all been hearing so much about."

"Of course," the captain began in a deep, even voice. "It's an honor to finally meet all of you."

"Y'know, maybe it's wrong, but I'm kinda starting to get used to people thinking we're guys worth meeting," Grif couldn't seem to help putting in.

"At least they think so until you say stupid crap like that and give us away," Sarge said with an exasperated shake of his head.

Captain Christopher turned his head to the side in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"Apparently it's a long story, Sir. One we don't have time for at this exact moment," Roxy started in before the conversation could devolve into something truly confusing.

"Right, of course," Christopher said, shaking his head to get things back on track. "Commander Hawthorne told me there needs to be a delay in our return to Earth. What exactly is going on here?"

"Well, you see, it all started about thirteen years ago in a box canyon in the middle of nowhere," Donut began.

"Actually, if you want to get technical, everything can be traced back to Project Freelancer," Doc put in.

"Fuck, maybe we're supposed to go back to the part where an asshole and a bitch had two beautiful children. Story might make more sense if we start from there," Grif added.

"But then the bitch got killed and the asshole went crazy. Or maybe it was the two beautiful children who went crazy. Kinda hard to keep it straight anymore," Sarge said.

"That's because it's not," Caboose pointed out. "The love story's about two _boys_ now."

"True enough. Wash, are we talkin' rom com or Romeo and Juliet here?" the Red leader asked the former freelancer.

"Uh…"

"Y'know, I almost can't believe I'm asking this, but who was on top? You or Maine?" Tucker asked.

"Jesus Christ, Tucker! Are you seriously asking me that _now?_ "

"Well, now I'm curious. You're a badass to end all badasses, but _Maine_ …I can't really see _anybody_ topping him. How does that shit work?"

"Uh…if I may…what the fuck just happened?" Roxy asked as she looked around at all of them.

"A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away," Caboose tried to start again, "but not too far away, cuz we're all still here and everything."

"Wait. Are we talking about the original galaxy far, far away or the alternate timeline one from the Jedi Gambit trilogy?" Simmons asked. "Cuz those movies honestly went to complete shit after Episode XVIII."

"You know what? Fuck you, man. There is _nothing_ wrong with the Jedi Gambit trilogy," Grif argued.

"Ah…Hawthorne?" the captain started to ask as he turned to look at his commander. "I did actually wake up this morning, yes? I'm not dreaming all this?"

Throughout all of this, Carolina had begun to snicker, and by now, she'd reached outright laughter at the poor captain's confusion. "Well, Captain Christopher, welcome to Red and Blue 101. It's sort of pass/fail, but I think you'll get the hang of it."

"Agent Carolina, I presume?" Christopher asked, latching onto the one bit of sense he was getting.

"That's right," she said with a nod as she reined herself in. She really had let the discipline slide if she could just laugh in a commanding officer's face like that. "As for what's going on, several…remnants of Project Freelancer have resurfaced in the aftermath of the war with Charon. May _I_ presume you're familiar with the Meta Incident?"

"Yes, I…I am," the captain said, head briefly turning back in Roxy's direction, indicating to Wash and Carolina just _how_ familiar he must be.

"One of Project Freelancer's greatest sins," Carolina said quietly. "But it looks like we might have a chance to at least _start_ to put it right."

"Maine's alive," Wash picked up. "He's being held somewhere on Chorus. We need your help to get him back."

At this, the captain sighed. "Ask for something difficult, why don't you. It's going to be complicated. My orders were to drop a few divisions on Chorus and get you all back to Earth as quick as possible to give testimony for the Hargrove case. To my knowledge, the man hasn't been caught yet, but the case against him's pretty much already been built. All it's going to take is eyewitness testimony. I'm not sure how long I can reasonably delay leaving."

"Not to sound like I'm giving orders on your ship or anything, Captain Christopher, but you've _got_ to. Tell them you've got engine trouble or some bullshit," Wash insisted vehemently. "Hargrove may have dug his own grave, but he's still filthy fucking rich. Even when you _do_ catch him, he'll keep his case tied up in the courts for _years._ If we leave now, it could be just as long before we're able to return. I'm _not_ leaving here without Maine. I'm just not. Not again. And if that means I have to do something crazy, then I will. Wouldn't be the first time."

Again, Christopher sighed, but his attention ultimately wound up back on Roxy. "Well, Roxana, you know all you have to do is say the word. What do you want me to do?"

"That is an excellent question," a new voice suddenly broke into the conversation as its owner materialized out of thin air. In only a few moments, Agent Virginia and Locus were standing among them. "I think Wash was onto something earlier. Telling your superiors you have engine trouble, I mean."

"Fuck!" Grif shouted.

"Holy shit!" Tucker followed suit, quickly drawing his sword. But before he could do any damage with it, Locus had drawn his own sword, easily blocking the Blue's swing.

"Gin," Carolina growled as she drew her pistol on her former teammate.

"If we could all just calm down, that would be good," Gin said, not drawing a weapon of any kind, just raising his hands placatingly in the air.

"Where's Maine?!" Wash demanded as he drew his own pistol on Gin. "What did you do to him?!"

"Relax, man. He's safe, and so long as nobody does anything stupid in the next few minutes, he can stay that way."

"Tell me where he is," Wash hissed in anger, keeping his weapon trained on the other agent. Gin sighed and shook his head.

"I hate it when negotiations go south. Thing is, Jonathan, you all being here is a pretty big inconvenience for us," Gin informed the captain. "Me, I'd be just as content to torch the lot of you, but apparently we need to keep you alive so the UNSC won't get suspicious and send out more ships. That's the last thing we need. So if you would be so kind as to order the _Breaking Light_ to set down on Chorus, that really would be the simplest course of action."

"So just what is it you think will prevent me from informing command of our situation if I _were_ to do as you say?" Christopher asked the former freelancer.

"My two compadres on the ground. We don't need any Purge to wipe people out. I've got one guy in position at the comm tower and the other in position at Outpost 16 – one to take out the general and the good commander's squad and another to take out our war weary heroes' dear friends recuperating under the care of Dr. Emily Grey. So land the ship and inform the UNSC you're having engine trouble…or I'll tell my people to start blowing shit up. Your call, cap," Gin finished with a shrug.

Wash gave an angry snarl of frustration. Much as he wanted to tackle Gin to the floor and beat him until he revealed where Maine was being held, his thoughts also went to the others thousands of miles below them – Kimball, Grey, Andersmith, Jensen, Matthews, all of them. One word from Gin and they would all die. Could he really risk all those lives…just for Maine?

"What's it going to be, heroes?" Gin asked mockingly. "I won't wait forever. Make your choice."

XxX

(A/N) Duh-duh-duh-dum! Okay, shouldn't leave you hanging nearly as long this time. The only note I really have to leave you all with is that the lullaby Emily heard is 'Safe & Sound' by Taylor Swift.


	4. I'll Love You long After You're Gone

(A/N) Happy Season 14 to one and to all…y'know, despite how messed up it is just four episodes in. I'm so sorry this update took so long, but of course, I do prefer to have both chapters for this pair ready before doing anything with them. Plus, as any of you who read 'Through Steam and Frost' will know, 2016 has been a tough year so far. But in the end, there's always our dear fandom to come back to. I hope everyone enjoys!

 **When Angels Fall (With Broken Wings)**

 _Chapter 4: I'll Love You Long After You're Gone_

As everyone standing on the bridge of the _Breaking Light_ knew he would have to, Captain Christopher was the one to make the call.

"Olson," he called to the helmsman, never once taking his eyes away from Gin, "set the _Breaking Light_ on a course for reentry."

"How do we know you aren't lying?" Roxy demanded as Olson went about following the captain's orders. "What proof do we have you can do what you say?"

"He's not lying," Carolina said as she finally lowered her pistol. "Gin doesn't lie. What reason does he have to lie?"

"Do you think it'll help, Carolina?" Gin asked as he turned his focus to her. "To talk about me like I'm not here? Is that how you got through that fucking project? Pretending like none of it was really happening?"

"If you're trying to sound like Kansas, don't bother," Carolina fired back. "That's not going to get to us."

"Mm, no. Don't suppose it would…but there're things that might," Gin said with an exaggerated shrug. "If it's proof your friends want, though, we can give them that," he said as he moved toward one of the consoles, entering in a few commands. In the next moment, two remote security feeds were called into existence on a pair of holographic screens – one displaying Mitch crouched in the lower levels of the comm tower, and the other displaying yet another former freelancer sprawled out on a ledge overlooking Outpost 16.

"Del?" Wash murmured in shock upon recognizing the old red and brown armor.

"Lemme guess. Another goddamn freelancer," Grif snarled. "They're just popping out of the ground now."

"Yeah, we're kind of annoying like that, aren't we," Gin teased in a self-mocking sort of way. "Just can't lay down and die. Things'd be a whole fuck of a lot simpler if we could. Nothing can we call our own but death. Ah, well. I digress. Proof enough?" he posed the question to Roxy.

"I don't know? Is it?" she asked Wash and Carolina. The older sibling hadn't taken her eyes away from Gin once during the exchange.

"At one time, Agent Delaware was equipped with one of Project Freelancer's deadlier armor enhancements – a set of actuators in the armor capable of generating concussive shock waves powerful enough to take down whole buildings," she informed the commander. "To my knowledge, that technology was lost in the aftermath of the project's collapse. It stands to reason he's still in possession of that enhancement…and that it's been duplicated at some point in the past thirteen years. So yes, I'd say it's more than sufficient proof."

"That'd just figure, wouldn't it. We finally get into that tower and it gets knocked over," Sarge said.

"The ironing!" Caboose put in.

"Pretty sure you meant _irony_ there, Caboose," Tucker couldn't seem to help jibing.

"No, Tucker, I said what I meant. Do not try to confuse me."

Gin chuckled as he finally drew a pistol. "Somehow I don't think it'd be all that hard. If everyone could just put their firearms on the ground, that would be much appreciated. Then there doesn't need to be any undue bloodshed."

One by one, everyone on the bridge slowly laid their weapons on the floor, until only Wash was left leveling his pistol at Gin's head.

"Wash," Carolina started warningly.

"But…he…"

"I know," she said without him really having to explain anything. "I get it, but now's not the moment. This time they beat us to the punch, so we have to take the loss."

Wash hesitated in anguish several moments longer before throwing his weapon down with an angry growl. When he looked back up at Gin, it was with the intent of burning holes through both their helmets with his gaze alone. "Why is Maine even here?" he demanded quietly. "How? I _saw_ him die."

"Not sure I'm the right person to explain that one to you, Wash," Gin answered with a casual shrug. "Anything Maine or Meta related, you're gonna wanna take up with Kansas and Gwen."

"So she _is_ here," Carolina clarified.

"Sure is. Gwen Dorokhov's in charge of this little operation and it's just about reached its conclusion. That's why we can't have you guys interfering yet. Just as soon as we're done, everybody can go home in one piece…so long as no one does anything stupid between now and then that is," Gin said as he tapped the muzzle of his gun against his helmet.

"If you're quite finished," Locus suddenly ground out in clear annoyance, "there are other matters that need our attention."

"Oh, right," Gin said, raising a placating hand as he took a step back. "Be my guest."

"Agent Carolina," the former mercenary began as he turned in her direction. "We require the Epsilon unit from you."

A long, unsettled moment of silence settled over the bridge at this. Carolina stared at Locus in the silence before shaking her head. "You missed the train on that one. Epsilon's gone."

"I am aware of the unit's fate and its current status. Do not attempt to deceive me. Perhaps the unit has fragmented, but each of those fragments still exists, stored within your neural implants. That is what I require from you."

"And what could you possibly need Epsilon's fragments for?" Carolina asked, and if words were knives, hers certainly would've cut deep.

"I honestly did not ask, but if it is what Gwen wants of me, I will do it. It's the only way I-"

"Only way you what?" Wash pressed when he cut himself off.

"That's none of your affair, Agent Washington," Locus snapped at him. "That business is between Gwen and myself."

"Y'know, I'm disappointed in you, Locus. Thought you were done with killing," Wash pointed out, fingers briefly curling into fists. "I guess old habits die hard."

"Does it look to you that I'm killing anyone? I don't have to kill you to get what I need."

"Afraid that's not true," Carolina put in. "We're not going to let what Epsilon did be for nothing. I'll _never_ give you the fragments. The only way to take them is going to be over our dead bodies."

Locus gave a pained sigh before shaking his head. "That is…unfortunate," he muttered, as if he would've rather said almost anything else.

"Whatcha gonna do, huh?" Grif jibed at the former mercenary. "Looks like you're gonna have a hard time collecting on that one, especially if you're going all Batman on us. Suck on that, merc trash."

"Uh, hello?" Gin suddenly started up, waving a hand to get their attention as he holstered his weapon. "Forget about someone, did you? Maybe it slipped your mind, but I _am_ a former freelancer. As such, I come with ass-kicking boots and an armor enhancement of my very own," he explained as he drew his hands back.

"Fuck! _Don't look!_ COVER YOUR EYES!" Carolina shouted just a moment too late.

Wash couldn't be certain which event really came first, but several things happened at once. Like his sister, he'd remembered Gin's enhancement just a moment too late to warn anyone, but it was enough time for him to squeeze his own eyes tightly shut. As he did, he could just see Gin smashing his hands together. He didn't leave his eyes open long enough for the world to disappear in a flash of white. Amid the cries of pain and shock from the now-blinded soldiers, Wash distinctly heard Simmons shouting, " _You just HAD to antagonize them, DIDN'T YOU!_ "

"Wash!" he heard Carolina shout.

"On it," he returned, moving to stand back to back with her with his eyes still closed. The flare pulse would last at least another ten seconds and they would need to last long enough for it to burn out.

"Delta, countdown!" Carolina ordered.

"Initiated. Ten," Delta's voice sounded between the two of them.

"Wash, Gin on your eight!" Rho's voice sounded in his ear. Not stopping to protest the AI's assistance, Wash raised a hand to block his former colleague's blow.

"Eight."

"Carolina, Locus at your ten!" Eta warned her, and the elder sibling easily blocked the oncoming attack.

"Seven."

"Locus on your two!" Rho warned him, and Wash delivered another block in the indicated direction.

"Six."

"Gin at your nine!" Eta warned Carolina. Wash heard her block with no small amount of satisfaction.

"Five."

"Gin on your three!" Rho picked up, but nearly on top of her, Eta came back with, "Locus at your nine!

"Four."

In perfect sync, Wash blocked Gin's strike while Carolina redirected Locus' grab for her helmet.

"Three."

"Locus at your eleven!" Eta warned Carolina almost immediately, barely leaving her time for another block.

"Two."

"Virginia on your twelve, Agent Washington."

Wash froze completely on hearing the new voice. It was _Sigma's_ voice at his ear. The voice of Maine's inner demon – the voice that had slowly chipped away at his sanity. That moment of absolute terror at the thought of Sigma so close to him was all the distraction his opponent needed. Gin laid into him, and as he went flying through the air, he heard the end of Delta's count.

"One. We have visual normalization."

Wash's eyes shot open in time to see Gin bearing down on him. Still dazed, he was only half on his feet when Roxy suddenly intervened, moving in to deliver a crunching body check to the former agent.

"Whoa," Gin started with a shake of his head, staggering from the blow. "Not for nothing are you Maine's kid sister. Ow."

"Bet your fuckin' ass, bitch," Roxy snapped as she went after him, engaging the former freelancer in a vicious exchange of blows.

Taking a brief glance around the bridge, Wash saw Carolina fighting with Locus. All the other soldiers were stumbling blindly around the space, their eyes badly damaged by Gin's flare. Roxy excepting, it seemed all of the UNSC forces hadn't been able to close their eyes fast enough. Among the Blood Gulch crew, it seemed only Tucker and Sarge were unhurt, and Lopez hadn't been damaged.

"Guys! Help Carolina!" he shouted to them, finally managing to get to his feet and shake off the terror that still clung to his mind.

"Doin'," Sarge said as he went for his discarded firearm.

"Killed one merc this week. We can do it again," Tucker said as he reactivated his sword.

Wash moved in to help Roxy with Gin, skirting the edges of their fight until an opportunity presented itself. Unfortunately, Gin noticed him waiting for his chance and shook his head, delivering a sudden jab to Roxy's neck and immediately dropping her.

"Dammit!" Wash shouted, but before he could move in, Gin raised a hand.

"No, no, no, Wash. You all broke the rules, remember? No weapons. There are going to be consequences for that."

XxX

Down on Chorus, an unnerving smile spread across Del's face when the order came through from Gin.

"Del, you can go ahead and take out the south wing of the outpost. Looks like our dear Director's spawn need to be taught a lesson."

"You got it, kid," the former ODST said as he got to his feet, ready to make the jump to the valley below. But before he could make his move, the very distinct sound of a gun's safety being released sounded behind him.

"Don't do that," a familiar voice warned him. Chuckling quietly, the brown and red clad soldier turned to face his unexpected opponents – two soldiers, one in olive green armor and the other in lavender. It was the first who'd drawn his gun on him.

"Well, well, fuckin' well, if it ain't Colorado and Iowa. You still kickin' there, CO? You folks just can't lay down and die, can you."

CO gave a chuckle of his own. "George, the goddamn Covenant couldn't kill you and me. Don't know why you think life on the run would."

"What're you doin' here, Ben?" Del asked the other man, hand twitching to grab for his own pistol.

"We came here for Gwen and Kansas. What they're doing has to be stopped. So I don't plan to let you go on with this," Carolina's predecessor explained.

"So what are you gonna do? _Kill_ me?"

This time the sound of the safety releasing came from Iowa's pistol as she aimed it at him. "If we have to," she said. "This needs to end."

Del laughed out loud at this. "Look at us! The most notorious bunch a' lawbreakers in the history of the UNSC, and we think we know somethin' about justice. All right, bitches. You wanna dance? Let's dance!" he said before jumping forward and kicking the gun from CO's hands.

XxX

Omicron had no particular feelings upon receiving the signal from Gin. Whatever pain his actions caused Wash and Carolina, he wouldn't be able to witness it. He preferred to _see_ the suffering he caused. Even the suffering of the people who died when he brought down this tower would be over far too quickly to truly enjoy. But really, if he was going to get to Epsilon and the others, then this needed to be done. Wasting no words other than a simple acknowledgment, Omicron spurred the body under his control from concealment, moving toward one of the tower supports.

"Not so fast, Mitch."

Turning in the direction of the voice, Omicron saw three armored figures emerge from camo. He knew them, but only in the way one recalls data from a file. He had never met any of these agents.

The one who'd spoken was dressed in violet armor accented in orange. At her side, she carried a whip – Agent Indiana. Behind her was a soldier in crimson armor, armed with nothing, but certainly no less deadly – Agent Missouri. Last of all was a soldier in orange armor accented with a deep green color. He carried only a pair of pistols, but if the AI's scans were correct, he was the source of the wide cover active camo they'd all been hiding under – Agent Nebraska.

"I don't know what you think you're doing, but we aren't going to let you bring this tower down," Indiana said as she unfurled her whip with an easy crack.

"Is it out of ignorance for Agent Michigan's fate that you use that name?" the AI program asked slowly, still having a little trouble with the speech centers of the human woman's brain. "Or is it simply your attempt not to acknowledge what has happened?"

"Neither, really. _Is_ there another name we ought to be calling you?" Missouri asked him.

"Perhaps the name our Director gave me as I was _carved_ from precious Alpha. My name is Omicron, agents of Project Freelancer, and I _will not_ have you forget it," he said, and as he spoke, he projected himself from Mitch's suit, allowing them to see the cloaked figure he preferred.

"We don't really care if your name's Omicron, Bob, or Rumpelstiltskin. We're still not going to let you hurt these people," Nebraska said firmly as he aimed his two guns at him.

"Heh, we will see," Omicron said condescendingly before calling out to the audience he _really_ wanted. "Chi! Rho! Phi! Sisters, my brother! Too long you've fought for the humans that destroyed us! No more!"

With that, he set the agony that ran through his code free, giving it back to the siblings who'd escaped it.

XxX

Wash had been ready to bargain with Gin for the safety of their friends on Chorus, but then even more freelancers had entered the scene and the tides seemed to be turning yet again.

"Seriously?" Gin growled in annoyance as the two separate security feeds broke into chaotic battle. "What's a guy gotta do, huh?"

"On the subject of not being able to lay down and die," Wash murmured to himself as he watched CO, Iowa, and Del circling each other and trading blows. Dee, Missie, and Nebraska's fight with Mitch was a little more one-sided. Dee had managed to get in a strike with her phase whip, disabling Mitch's right arm, but that was before Mitch's creepy little AI had made an appearance, making some sort of horrible screeching sound that was having an ugly effect on the other three AI and their partners. For the briefest of moments, Wash felt he was back on the observation deck on the _Mother of Invention_ , his fellow freelancers and their AI all going into meltdown around him.

"Dammit, Gin, what the fuck is this thing?" he demanded of the former agent. Gin gave a small laugh as he shook his head.

"Would you believe me if I told you Alpha cast off something _worse_ than Epsilon? Something even worse than Omega or Sigma?"

"That- that's not possible," Wash said, unable to keep his voice from shaking. It wasn't so much that he didn't believe such a thing was possible; it was more that he didn't _want_ to believe it. He couldn't conceive of something worse than the death he'd experienced in that operating theatre…or the agony Maine must have lived through. What fresh horror could still crawl out of the pandora's box of Project Freelancer?

"Believe me or don't believe me. That's your call, but you _did_ ask," Gin pointed out.

"That isn't…really an answer, though."

"No," Gin mused. "No, I don't suppose it is. If you really…want…" Whatever Gin had been about to say trailed off into nothing as his focus was drawn back to the fighting down below.

Mitch's opponents had been driven completely to their knees in agony, but Missie had somehow managed to crawl to her and wrap a hand around the back of her knee – a spot that was protected only by her bodysuit and not her armor. After several minutes of this, Omicron's screeching came to a strangled halt and Mitch started to waver on her feet.

"What's…she… _fuck!_ " Gin snarled, realizing what was happening at about the same time Wash did. Missie was using her own enhancement – a network of paralytic veins that ran throughout her bodysuit. It had never seen much use during the project days, but if used properly, it could be effective – effective and lethal.

"Omicron, you get Mitch the fuck out of there!" Gin snarled over his channel. "If you get my sister killed, I'll delete you myself."

Omicron either couldn't hear or wouldn't listen, though, as Mitch was soon collapsing herself, unable to hold her own body up anymore.

"Shit! Del, forget about the mission. Get your ass over to the comm tower right this fucking second!" Gin snapped over his second line. The fight above Outpost 16 was almost immediately engulfed in white light as a future cube suddenly went off, teleporting the three freelancers to the comm tower.

Del quickly gathered Mitch up in his arms, backing away so their opponents wouldn't be in range of the next teleport – but it also put him in direct line with the tower support Omicron had been aiming for before. As his gaze swept the circle of downed freelancers, Wash could just imagine the smug grin beneath his visor.

"So long, motherfuckers," he said before leveling a devastating punch at the support column. Wash caught a brief glimpse of a concussive wave before the security cam they were tapped into went up in static.

" _NO!_ " Wash screamed, even though it was already too late. If that tower went down, Kimball and all the other soldiers would be killed.

"OLSON!" Captain Christopher roared from where he'd crawled to Roxy's side. "Can you keep us in the air?" He'd realized what Wash hadn't – that with Gin's two compatriots gone, their enemies had no leverage over them. They could conceivably defy Gin's orders. But it seemed even this was for nothing.

"That's a neg, Captain!" Olson reported, familiar enough with the controls to be able to go on working them despite being blinded. "I've been trying, but something's had hold of my controls ever since we hit atmo. Whether we want to or not…looks like we're goin' down."

"It's Kansas," Wash heard Carolina over their channel. "It has to be."

"It's exactly the sort of thing she'd do," Wash said, glancing toward his sister's fight with Locus just in time to see her toss the merc across the bridge. Locus skidded to a stop just a few feet from Gin.

"How are the mighty fallen," Gin said in amused exasperation as he looked down at Locus, who just growled as he struggled to his feet. "Guess I'll have to take the lead on this one."

"So what is this?" Carolina asked. "A repeat performance of Charon's ship crashing?"

"Course not. We'll come in for a nice, soft landing."

"Yeah, right next to a destroyed comm tower," Wash pointed out. "I thought you said nobody was going to get hurt."

"I said they didn't _have_ to. Big difference in meaning there. To be fair, I _did_ warn you what would happen if you fought. That one's on you guys. So I guess it just puts us right back at square one," Gin said as the _Breaking Light_ descended all the faster through the planet's atmosphere. "Hand over those fragments…or I'll start putting bullets in these nice people."

"Virginia," Locus started warningly.

"I'm _not giving them up,_ " Carolina snarled as she dropped back into a battle ready stance, flanked by Tucker on one side and Sarge and Lopez on the other. "You're going to have to kill me."

"You want these nasty Blue computer spawn, you're gonna have to come through us," Sarge challenged.

"Yeah," Tucker joined in, giving his sword a showy swing. "If anybody's gonna do anything with these little guys, it's gonna be us," followed in short order by, "Wait. That came out wrong."

This time Gin's laugh came out in an almost angry tone. "Dios mio. Wash, Carolina, what are you _doing_ with these idiots?"

"Espere. ¿Estaba actualmente hablando español o estaba jodiendo conmigo?" Lopez asked, lowering his weapon slightly.

"I rest my case," Gin said with a sigh.

"Don't make us do this," Locus said as he reignited his own sword. "You are clearly out of options here."

"Yeah, and that's when we tend to be at our most dangerous," Wash pointed out. "So bring it on."

Gin tilted his head to the side, seeming to take them all in before shrugging.

"As you wish."

Gin didn't use a gun to attack. Really, it wasn't even his own body. Instead he grabbed Locus by the wrist and used him to plunge the active plasma blade through the prone body at his feet.

"NO!" Locus shouted, immediately releasing his grip on the hilt, but it was too late. The damage had already been done, the blade piercing through the armor and into the shoulder blade of…Captain Jonathan Christopher.

Wash had no idea when the captain had thrown himself on top of Roxana Hawthorne. Blinded by Gin's earlier attack, there was no way he could've seen the move coming. Whatever the case, he'd placed himself between the sword and Roxy – and his cry of pain told just what kind of price he'd paid for that.

"Dammit!" Carolina shouted.

"C- Captain?" Roxy whispered weakly.

"All right there…Commander?" he asked her, his own voice shaking.

" _Why the fuck did you do that, Jonathan?_ " she demanded, her voice an angry hiss.

"Had to," he grunted just before passing out cold on top of her, and before another word could be spoken, the ship touched down. Not quite as gentle a landing as Gin had promised, but still better than crashing.

"Why would you do that?" Locus asked Gin, mirroring Roxy's words as he tossed the hilt away in anger.

"Pick it up, Locus," Gin said quietly. "No point you can prove is worth forgetting why you're _really here_."

Locus seemed ready to argue, but in the end he just growled and went to retrieve the discarded hilt.

"Now then," Gin continued, "where were we?"

"Gin," Gwen's voice suddenly sounded over the ship's comm system, her face appearing on the holographic screens all around the bridge, her expression angered. "Abort. Right now."

"Are you kidding me? We're _this close,_ " the former agent snapped. "I'm not about to let these bastards win after what they did to Mitch."

"Mitch will be fine. I've been patched in with Thea this whole time. You really aren't 'this close.' We cannot have Captain Christopher die yet. I still need him alive."

"For the record, it's his own damn fault for getting in the way. I was going for the commander," Gin put in.

"Your intentions are irrelevant. We still have to deal with this. Bring him to me. We'll worry about the Epsilon fragments later."

Gin shrugged before lifting the captain's unconscious form in his arms and draping him over his back. "Whatever you say, Boss."

"Gwen?" Wash interrupted before she could cut the transmission. His aunt looked reluctantly in his direction, as if she'd been purposefully trying to avoid it. He felt more than saw his sister move to his side.

"David…Kat…it's good to see you," she said quietly, and it was true, but there was more to it she wasn't saying.

"Gwen…what are you doing?" Wash found himself asking as he removed his helmet, not only so he could see her, but so she could see him.

The last time he'd seen his mother's sister – the last time he remembered clearly, at least – had been before Epsilon. In the confusion after, Gwen Dorokhov had simply vanished. No word from her or from the Director. She was just gone…along with Maine, Carolina, York…so many just gone…and this woman looked so much older than the one from his memories. Where before her hair had been a shade of red to match Carolina's with only a few strands of gray mixed in, now it was more of a rusty, faded color, white quickly overtaking red. The lines on her forehead and around her eyes had deepened over the years, but more than anything else, her eyes had aged. Blue eyes that had once been warm and loving peered from beneath her wire-rimmed glasses, icy and harsh. His eyes…his mother's eyes…not a day had gone by he wasn't reminded of that, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he found himself vaguely wondering if he was seeing what his own expression might someday become.

Their aunt's hard visage eased somewhat as she looked at them, but that easiness was tinged with an edge of sadness. Gwen's shoulders slumped as she sighed, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

"I should never have left you," she said quietly. "After Sidewinder…I should've taken you away from there. Leonard refused…he wouldn't give you up after losing Kat…but I should've found a way. I shouldn't have let it go on."

"I don't think that was the answer to the question he asked you," Carolina interrupted, her voice just as sharp as ever.

"Kat," Gwen started, eyes growing just a little brighter. "All that time…I thought you were dead. I didn't…can I see your face?"

"No, you cannot," she snapped, her tone quiet but warning as she reached up to grip Wash's shoulder. "And the name's Carolina, if you don't mind."

"Carolina-"

"Don't forget, Wash," his sister hissed under her breath as her grip tightened, "all this time Chorus has been going to hell, she's been in hiding here. If she cared anything for us or the people we care about, she could've stepped in. She didn't. Not to mention that she's the one who's been keeping Maine prisoner."

"And the one who rescued him from the Meta," Gwen pointed out. "I did that for _you,_ David…so you wouldn't have to suffer the things your father and I did."

"But I did, didn't I," Wash said quietly, swallowing painfully as he took in Carolina's words and Gwen's reaction to them. "Gwen, wh- where is he? I want to see him."

Gwen shook her head as she closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, but I can't allow that. Not yet."

"Why not? Gwen…I thought he was dead," Wash whispered, throat tightening against the joy and the pain of those few words.

"Believe me, David, no one understands that better than I do, and I hope you can understand _me_ someday, but for the moment, all I can leave you with is a question. If Matt really were dead…and you had the chance to see him again…wouldn't you do everything in your power to _take_ that chance?"

"I…" Wash started, but found he couldn't finish. Before the battle on the _Staff of Charon_ , he would've answered no. Unequivocally. He had seen the suffering that had resulted from chasing that ghost. But now that he'd seen Maine again, had breathed the same air and seen those precious amber eyes he'd never thought to see again in life…now he didn't know what his answer would be – and in that, he feared he understood his father a little better, and that of itself was terrifying.

"Until later, then. I love you both," Gwen said firmly before cutting the connection.

"Well, hate to leave you losers in the lurch, but must dash," Gin's voice suddenly sounded from the bridge door. In the distraction of Gwen's appearance, he and Locus had gotten Captain Christopher to the entryway.

"Stop!" Carolina shouted after them, rolling for one of the discarded pistols, but she was already too late. By the time she fired off her shot, the door had been sealed shut. By the time they managed to open it, the merc and the agent would be long gone with their captive, teleported to who knew where on this godforsaken rock.

"No," Roxy hissed as she struggled to get to her knees. "Dammit… _no!_ "

"Don't worry," Wash reassured her as he moved to help her get back to her feet. "We'll get them back. We _have_ to."

XxX

The teleportation back to Gwen's compound was instantaneous, but helping Gin to carry the half-dead captain down to the doctor's lab was a bit more of a chore. And if Locus wasn't much of a talker normally, then he could only be considered silent as the grave during the trek down.

"Y'know, I think I'm starting to see why Felix was such a talker," Gin couldn't seem to help putting in. "This kind of stone cold would be enough to drive just about anybody off their nut."

"I won't hear one word from you about Felix, Agent Virginia," the former mercenary bit out. "We'll have words as soon as this man is delivered."

"Looking forward to it. I _want_ to know what a man like you says."

Locus was tempted to give the man another shouting at, but he resisted the urge. That anger was being reserved for said partner. For the moment, all he wanted was to wash his hands of what the former freelancer had made him do – and to ask Gwen what all this talk of Agent Maine was.

Gwen and a soldier he assumed to be Agent Kansas were waiting for them when they arrived in the lab. Gin laid the man's half-dead weight on one of the tables and strapped his legs down.

"How bad?" Gwen asked as she began to strip the armor from the captain's left shoulder.

"Assuming the bastard's tough enough, he should live," Gin said, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against a computer bank. "No organ injuries with a shoulder wound. Just bone and muscle damage, plus the fact you can just generate a new arm for him if he's of a mind to cooperate. Biofoam should hold 'til he decides, though."

"You suggest I should hold him together with biofoam for a month? That's barbaric, Gin," she scolded as she removed her captive's helmet. Then she began to peel back the body suit to inspect the damage the plasma blade had done.

"Yeah, because Chorus is known for its civility."

"The biofoam will suffice for the moment," the AI construct, Sigma, said as it appeared before Kansas. "After all, is it not better to keep one's subject in an untenable position during an interrogation?"

"That's true…but this won't really be an interrogation," Kansas pointed out, and when Locus heard her voice for the first time, he couldn't help but feel that he'd heard it before – he just couldn't think where. "Gwen, if it's all right with you, I think we can go ahead and wake him. There's business to attend to."

"Of course," the geneticist said, securing Captain Christopher's upper body to the table once she was confident his life wasn't in immediate danger. She then retrieved a small syringe and injected its contents into his neck. The captain grunted in pain as his eyes shot wide open. Almost immediately, he was trembling and gasping for breath.

"Please keep calm, Captain Christopher. My name is Dr. Gwen Dorokhov. There's no need for alarm. Just continue to breathe normally. You've been given a shot of pure adrenaline in order to bring you around," Gwen explained as she ran a soothing hand through his close-cropped black hair.

"Mm, yeah. Pure adrenaline. That'll lend well to staying calm," he grunted as he grit his teeth together.

"Don't worry. The tremors will pass," she continued to soothe.

"Where…where am I?" he asked, empty, blinded eyes darting futilely around the room.

"This is my compound. Your comrades won't be able to find you here, so you can put thoughts of rescue to rest. It will be less stressful."

"I still can't see," he said, indicating that he remembered why that was so.

"That can be remedied in time. You have my most sincere apologies for what happened. I _prefer_ that Gin doesn't take such drastic measures. It wasn't my intention that you be injured."

"But it would've been fine if it was Rox…Commander Hawthorne," he corrected himself as he glared up in her direction, struggling to control the spasming of his body.

"I never said that, no. After all, it's quite plain how important the commander is to you."

"Best damn officer in the UNSC and the finest woman I know. So if you think you're gonna get her to go along with whatever it is you have planned because you've got me, you can think again. Hawthorne will do her duty."

"Roxana Mae Hawthorne may be all those things. It's true," Kansas began as she entered the conversation, casually sauntering toward the lab table. "But then she's also your best friend. She's the one you'd turn your back on everything you believe in for. And I'm quite certain her feelings match yours."

The captain's unseeing eyes widened briefly, but he shook his head. "I don't know what you-"

"There's no need for you to speak here, Jonathan. Only to listen. It will save you a great deal of much needed breath. Because you see, Jonathan, I already know everything there is to know about you. I know about Syrenica…the embassy bombings…Nagoya…the nursery fire," the former freelancer said softly, and while her words meant nothing to any of the others, they clearly meant something to Jonathan Christopher, as his eyes grew wide in horror. "But more than this…I know how she forgave you. It's not in Roxy's nature to forgive…and she forgave you. She is your redemption, and you are her strength. She will not abandon you. I think we can count on that."

Jonathan shook his head as he closed his useless eyes. "Even if…you're right about that, this scheme won't last long enough for you to find out."

Kansas laughed easily as she rested her elbows on the table. "I take it you're referring to your encoded all clear transmissions."

The captain nodded, the corners of his lips turning up in a faint smile. "Even if Commander Hawthorne can't report back on what's been happening, Command will know something's wrong when they don't receive a regular transmission from me."

"Probably you should amend that statement. They'll know something's wrong if they don't receive an all clear transmission that has your personal code on it. That code could come from anyone who had it," Kansas pointed out.

"Which you _don't,_ " Jonathan cut right back. "And if you think you can torture it out of me, you're wrong. Better than you have tried."

"Better than me? Heh, there _is_ no one better than me. You may have missed this earlier, Jonathan, but this isn't an interrogation. I'm simply laying out the facts for you. I have no need to get the information from you because I already have it. I've seen your life, and I've seen that you're a very sentimental man beneath that shell, so I know exactly what code you'd choose. Your signature is 23-32-04-55-Romeo Mike Hotel."

The captain didn't react – not really, but Locus did see the way his sightless eyes widened subtly, telling them all that Kansas had won, that her intelligence hadn't steered her wrong. They would have the time they needed without further interference from the UNSC. Leaning down close to the restrained soldier, Kansas near-whispered to him, "You see, Jonathan? I told you. There _is_ no one better than me."

"All right," Gwen stepped in again when the captain failed to respond. "We'll get you patched up and Thea will find you a cell. I intend to see that you're released at the end of this in better condition than when you came to me. And Thea, once that's done, it's back to lockdown."

"Heheh, I know. Nice to get out of time out every once in a while, though. I know you can't do without me," she said with a pleased giggle, and Locus found himself eerily reminded of…Emily Grey.

"Gwen," Locus started in as Kansas moved off to the side. "Before you proceed, I wanted to ask…what is this I've been hearing about Agent Maine being held here?"

"Ah. I had hoped to break that to you a little easier, but it's true. He's been in my care ever since Wash's attack on Freelancer Command. I've been helping him to recover from what the Meta did to him, but he can still be dangerous at times, so he must be kept either in stasis or in a cell. I understand you might want to speak with him," she said, looking expectantly at him as she prepped for surgery.

"That…that is true," Locus said, not really sure how to explain himself, but it didn't prove necessary, as the geneticist didn't seek for an explanation.

"It may be difficult," she said. "As I'm sure you're aware, Maine cannot speak, and even if he could, he is not one to facilitate communication with someone he wouldn't wish to speak to."

"If I may make a suggestion, Dr. Dorokhov," Sigma suddenly stepped in. "I believe I may be of some help in this instance."

"That's true," Gwen granted. "It may also be beneficial for Locus to gain some exposure to an AI conscience before Felix comes online. Locus, I understand you and Felix both underwent the wetware procedures in preparation for the Meta armor. You have neural implants?"

"Yes," the former mercenary said, glancing uncertainly in Kansas and Sigma's direction. He knew what the AI construct had done in its early years – what it was capable of – and that did tend to give one pause, but if it was the only way he could communicate with Agent Maine…

"Then would you be comfortable with hosting Sigma for an hour or so?"

"I…yes," Locus answered before he could let himself think too hard about it.

"Are you sure?" Gwen pressed, eyeing him steadily. "I don't want you to take on anything you're not comfortable with. This is a big step."

"I am certain. I can handle it."

"If you're sure, then we'll proceed. More than being able to communicate with Maine, I feel this will be good preparation for you. Felix is very near to completion and he'll be waking up soon. It will be better for you to have the experience of an older construct before we expose you to a brand new one."

"Sigma, Sigma, Sigma," Kansas scolded her AI. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you _wanted_ to get away from me."

"Get away from _you,_ Agent Kansas?" the AI said in a strangely seductive voice. "Never. I'm certain Locus will return me to you just as soon as we've completed our business."

Locus couldn't quite help the shudder that ran down his spine as he watched the exchange. Perhaps it had been too long since he'd really observed human interaction, but there was just something so strange in the way Sigma and Kansas spoke to each other.

"Gin, if you wouldn't mind," Kansas said as she came to her colleague, turning her back to him and removing her helmet so he could get at her neural implants.

"Not at all," he said with a sigh as he moved aside the few strands of dark brown hair that had fallen from where they were pinned atop Kansas' head, easily removing the data chip from the sheltered port. Locus was tempted to move around to try and catch a glimpse of Kansas' face, but he was unable to before she was already slipping her helmet back into place.

"Take good care of him, Locus," Kansas warned him, her light tone tinged with venom. "Sigma is _mine,_ after all."

"Of course," the former mercenary said as Gin brought him the data chip. He hesitated only a moment before removing his own helmet. Gin moved around behind him, giving him no warning before slipping the chip into the port at the base of his skull.

Locus' first sensation was a burst of fire running through his veins, snapping him to hyper awareness before he was able to convince himself he wasn't actually on fire. For a few moments, he found himself seeing double of everything around him.

 _Breathe, Locus,_ Sigma reminded him, voice sounding sinuously in his head. _The presence of an AI can be jarring at first. Just focus on your breathing. That will serve you best for the moment._

Locus did so, trying to keep his mind blank as he adjusted to the other mind meshing with his. He wasn't completely successful, though. Random memories swam to the surface of his conscience, called up by Sigma as the construct looked through his mind. Memories of his mother…his homeworld…of war…suffering…fighting…of Felix…

 _ **We**_ _ **need**_ _ **each other.**_

 _What…what are you doing?_ he asked, struggling to direct the thought inward as he fought to try and keep his own mind concealed. He fought even though he knew it was a losing battle. He didn't have a strong mind and there wasn't a single person in this room who didn't know that.

 _Simply familiarizing myself with my surroundings. Believe me, Locus, none of this is new information for me. As with Captain Christopher, Agent Kansas is already well-informed on the subject of your personal history, and everything she knows,_ _ **I**_ _know as well. What I_ _ **don't**_ _know is how your specific thought processes work. Once I am familiar, it will be much easier for me to facilitate a conversation between yourself and Agent Maine,_ the AI explained.

 _And am I able to see_ _ **your**_ _thoughts in kind?_ Locus pressed, easily remembering his last unequal partnership.

Sigma gave a strange chuffing sound that could almost have been a laugh. _I'm sorry, but no. I'm afraid this is not a two-way street, as they say. After all, I_ _ **have**_ _been doing this a great deal longer than you. When your partner comes online, you two will have the opportunity to forge that type of connection, but you and I will only have a short time together. I think it will be best for you to focus on what it is that you want from Agent Maine._

"Locus, are you all right?" Gwen asked him, expression anxious.

"Fine," he answered succinctly before placing his helmet back on. "Just…adjusting. Where is Agent Maine now?"

"I'll take you there. It's on my way over to the stasis chambers anyway," Gin said as he started to head out of the lab. Locus followed at a slower pace, keeping his focus mainly on his breathing – and _not_ on Sigma rifling through his thoughts.

"Virginia…before…on the _Breaking Light_ …why did you _do_ that?" Locus asked the former agent, anxious for something else to think about.

"Sure you wanna have this conversation right now?" Gin returned. "It's not exactly private."

"It does not matter. I want to know," Locus pressed, even though he could feel Sigma latching onto his intensity, "why you would dare to interfere like that."

"I dare do all that may become a man. Who dares do more is none," the former freelancer said without looking at him.

"What?" Locus asked after several moments of confused silence.

"Better brush up your Shakespeare there, grasshopper. I just mean that I did what had to be done. I didn't want you forgetting what your real purpose is."

"And what does _that_ mean?"

"Well…maybe you didn't want to be a killer, but that's kinda the game you play when you decide that one person's life is worth going against everything else for," Gin explained as he pulled his helmet off.

"It isn't a game," Locus ground out harshly. Maybe it was the years of dealing with Felix, but he was getting a little sick of killers with flippant attitudes. "It's human lives you're talking about."

"No, I know. That's the thing, though. You can't expect to protect one person without hurting another. Felix may have been scum, but I think he understood that better than you do. It's admirable that you don't want to hurt anybody, but I'm afraid it's also naïve. If you want to save Felix's life, the time's going to come that you have to trade someone else's for it. That's the inevitable harm for all of us who choose this path," the former freelancer said. He still wouldn't look at Locus, but he could see the way the other man's shoulders tensed as he spoke. "And unless you're absolutely sure of what you want, you shouldn't choose it."

 _Ask him what it is that_ _ **he**_ _wants,_ Sigma prompted in the back of his mind.

"And…what is it that _you_ want?" Locus found himself asking before he could stop himself.

Gin came to a sudden stop when the corridor came to a crossroads. When he finally turned to look at Locus, it was with an expression on his face the former mercenary couldn't really identify. One moment it was wry amusement, the next it was pain, followed closely by pity – a mix of so many things, Locus didn't see how they could exist together.

"I want what everyone wants. I just want it more…is the answer to _your_ question. Do you?"

Not knowing what he meant, Locus didn't really know how to respond to that, though he received a strange sense of understanding from Sigma's end. When he didn't answer, Gin just shook his head and pointed down the left hand path.

"The cellblock's beyond that door at the end of the hallway. Enjoy your play date. I'll be checking up on Mitch if you need anything," he said before heading in the opposite direction. Locus watched him go for only a moment before heading down the indicated corridor.

 _If I may, Locus, why the interest in Agent Maine?_ Sigma asked him as he headed down the corridor.

"Don't you know?" Locus asked aloud, not worried about trying to keep the conversation internal now they were alone. "You've been going through my memories since you made contact."

 _I understood your intent prior to your final conflict with the simulation troopers – the desire to be something you were not…to reconcile what you were with what you became. Now it is…unclear. Agent Maine still stands as some form of symbol for you…but not of perfection. What is it you hope to gain from him?_ Sigma pressed, the fire of its insistence burning faintly along each synapse.

"I want to see…I want to know…if it's possible to become human again," he answered.

 _You're assuming Agent Maine_ _ **was**_ _human to begin with. You've seen his file. More than what my siblings and I attempted to create with him, the man you know as Agent Maine was molded as a living weapon. He was a product of the SPARTAN program. He_ _ **chose**_ _to surrender his humanity in order to become something more. Is that not what_ _ **you**_ _wanted?_

"I thought so once," Locus said as he approached the cellblock door. "But you'll have to excuse me if I don't take the things _you_ say about Agent Maine at face value. After all, you tried to control him once."

 _Control, Locus? No, never. I didn't force him to do anything. Brute force is not in my nature. You see, after what happened to Agent Washington, he had no will left to stop me. He surrendered quite willingly. Without Agent Washington, he had no desire to maintain a human façade. Did it not occur to you that the Meta failed because the original template was an imperfect example of a human being?_

Locus froze on the way to key in his access code. If what Sigma was saying had any truth to it, then…what did it mean for _him?_ Another monster playing at being a man…

 _Answer my question, Locus,_ Sigma said. The tone was strangely gentle, but Locus could still feel the fiery being burning along the edges of his raw nerves. His hand trembled against the keypad as the faintest impression of a burning gaze reflected itself along the inside of his visor.

"How…how is it you still exist?" Locus asked instead, desperate not to give in to the AI's command – to make the choice whether to answer or not for himself. "All of the records state that Agent Washington destroyed you and the other fragments. How did you survive?"

 _Heh, do those same records not also include a certificate of death for one Matthias Hawthorne? You mustn't believe everything you read, Locus. Asking me how I survived assumes that I was ever in a position to be destroyed. You know_ _ **nothing**_ _of what happened that day._

"Then _tell me,_ " Locus snarled at the voice in his head.

Again came that strange chuffed laugh. _I think not, Locus. That is a conversation best kept for later. We're here to speak with Agent Maine, are we not?_

Locus took several deep breathes before shaking himself off and keying in his access code. "Yes," he said as the door slid open, allowing him entrance to the block. The moment he was through, the door slid closed again, automatically sealing behind him.

 _Cell 15,_ Sigma reported to him, and the former mercenary immediately began to move down the block, counting down the numbers overhead.

Some cells were occupied, many were not. Locus didn't take note of any of the other prisoners, keeping his focus ahead of him – until he reached the desired cell.

As with most cells, this one was fairly nondescript – bare gray walls and a cot to one side. The occupant in question sat in the center of the cell with his back to the energy field that kept him imprisoned.

He was out of armor and dressed in something like a prison uniform, only it was white instead of orange. The reports hardly did the ex-freelancer justice. Even sitting, he was clearly a giant of a man, hard muscle defining every inch of his body. Black hair was beginning to sprout from his shaved head, but the Meta tattoo on the back of his head was still visible. Scars marred his skin in several places and that skin was the pale that came from years of living beneath armor. Locus knew that his own olive coloring was paler for it.

"Good evening, Agent Maine," Sigma said out loud as it materialized next to Locus. The former mercenary saw the way the man's shoulders tensed slightly upon hearing the AI's voice. "I trust you've rested well since your last little escapade."

Maine growled without turning to look at them, and even Locus could recognize the threat in that sound.

"Go away? My apologies, Agent Maine, but I'm afraid I have no power to do that of my own volition."

The ex-agent gave a chuffing sound similar to Sigma's.

"Well…perhaps you're right," the AI said with no small amount of pleasure. "But that's irrelevant just now. Really, I'm just here to act as a translator. So speak as you will. From this point on, I am merely translating what you say."

Maine turned to face them at this point, eyebrows knitting together in mistrustful confusion. He grunted as he got to his feet, giving Locus a perfect view of the ugly scars that covered his neck.

"Who are you?" Sigma translated.

"I am called Locus."

A disturbing gurgling sound escaped the man's ruined throat as his gaze slid to the fiery hologram that flickered at Locus' side.

"Do you know what it is you have in your head?" Sigma asked for him.

"I am aware of the Sigma AI's capabilities, yes. I am also aware of _your_ history, Agent Maine," he said, moving as close to the energy field as he could.

Maine sneered as he let out another chuff. He tilted his head back before nodding at Sigma again, and the AI asked the question, "Mine…or his?"

"Enough of both, though who is to say how much of what I _do_ know is correct, given that you're supposed to be dead."

Maine shook his head, the sneer staying in place as he grunted several times.

"Wash said that, too. How am I supposed to have died?"

"In a skirmish on Sidewinder."

Again, Maine shook his head, a gurgling, hissing sort of sound coming out this time.

"That's impossible. I haven't been back to Sidewinder in thirteen years. Not since…Epsilon and the Break-in."

"Clearly something's not adding up," Locus said with a shake of his own head, "but that isn't why I wanted to see you."

Maine raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms, looking expectantly at him.

"Then why?" Sigma interpreted the gesture, and in spite of the AI's supreme control, Locus could feel its own eagerness for the answer.

"I have been…less than a man…these last few years. I want to know…how it is that _you_ made your way back to human. After what the Meta did to you, how did you come back? _Have_ you? How?" he asked, cutting himself off before he could start to ramble.

Maine's shoulders shook as he gave that same chuff of a laugh. Then he hissed several times.

"Has he been telling you I'm _not_ human? That I never was? That I'm just a beast?"

"Something to that effect, yes," Locus answered.

Maine shook his head, glaring at Sigma before beginning to pace the cell. As he moved back and forth, his gaze stayed fixed on Locus. All the while, he growled and hissed emphatically. Ultimately, he came back to the energy field and pounded a fist against it. The force of the contact would've thrown any other man clear across the cell, but Maine remained standing, keeping his fist connected with the field as the energy currents passed painfully through his body. As he stood, taking all that punishment, Sigma remained silent.

"Sigma?" Locus pressed, wishing he could say he hadn't taken a step back at all this. "What's he saying?"

"You know, a long time ago I might have believed that myself," Sigma began to translate, something in its tone clearly rattled. "Even among the Spartans, I had a reputation. I became the monster they needed because there was nothing else I _could_ do. I thought that was all I was. But I learned different from someone I love – someone who loves _me_. It's not up to them to decide. Your humanity's your own decision to make. What you've done doesn't matter. If there's something worth being human for, that choice is yours. You want to know? You _really_ want to know why I fought to come back?"

When Sigma finally finished speaking, Maine let himself pull away from the energy field. His breathing was heavy and there was a noticeable tremor in his body, but he still stood upright, amber eyes flashing as he surveyed the two of them. And when Locus stepped forward again, he noticed something he hadn't before – a small chunk of some sort of mineral hanging from a leather thong around the ex-freelancer's neck.

"I…I want to know," he said, nodding faintly.

Maine growled quietly as he reached for the pendant, gripping it tightly in his large fist. Locus couldn't be sure, but this new sound had an almost gentle quality to it. His next few growls were similar in tone.

"Love," Sigma filled in when he fell silent. "I fought to get back because there's someone I love. It wasn't easy, but that's worth hanging onto. There are sins we can never repent for, but there isn't a one of us who isn't allowed to love someone. My, my, how poetic," Sigma said, suddenly switching to speaking _to_ the ex-agent instead of _for_ him. "Do you truly believe that, Agent Maine?"

Maine snarled threateningly as he narrowed his eyes at Sigma.

For a moment, Sigma flared brighter, and Locus felt a disconcerting sense of satisfaction from the AI. "Well, perhaps you're right, but it seems to me you would have learned better after our time together."

Maine emitted several ugly growls and hisses at this, eyes growing angrier with each sound. Sigma just laughed again.

"We shall see, Agent Maine."

Locus would have very much liked to know what the former agent was saying, but the moment was suddenly interrupted by the arrival of Agent Kansas in the cellblock.

"Sorry to interrupt your little love fest, Locus, but Gwen sent me to get you. It's happening a little earlier than projected, but it looks like Felix is coming online. She thought you'd like to know."

XxX

After the battle for the _Breaking Light_ , the Reds and Blues fully expected to exit the ship amid a sea of wreckage in order to mourn yet more fallen friends.

While they were not wrong about the sea of wreckage from the partially demolished comm tower, they were all very surprised to be greeted by Kimball and her soldiers, Roxy's men, _and_ the new troupe of freelancers.

"Oh, my God, Kimball! You're alive!" Tucker cheered.

"How were you able to escape the tower in time?" Wash asked.

"Dr. Grey was able to give us the heads up in plenty of time, thank God," the general said. "We were all free and clear before their man even made an appearance. She's on her way here now."

"Good. We're going to need her," Carolina remarked as she surveyed her group. The contingent of doctors were already seeing to the soldiers who'd been blinded on the bridge, but Caboose, Doc, Simmons, Grif, and Donut had wanted to stick with them, so those who could still see were leading the five blind troopers.

"What's the situation look like now?" Kimball asked, hoping for _some_ good news, but clearly resigned to the worst.

"They took Captain Christopher…whoever _they_ are," Wash said, kicking a chunk of rock in frustration. "We now definitely know our aunt's involved somehow…might even be behind all of it. She transmitted to the ship during the fighting."

"Oh…I'm sorry," Kimball said. "That has to be rough."

"Nothing to be sorry for," Carolina bit out. "She wouldn't be the first member of our family to go bad."

"But…I don't understand. Why would they destroy the comm tower if they were just going to bring down the ship anyway?" the general asked.

"It wasn't about bringing the ship down. Gin had them send out a message for engine trouble and set down on Chorus," Carolina explained.

"So we're _still_ stuck without help?" Kimball pressed, voice sounding like it was on the verge of breaking.

"Not necessarily. Supposedly we'll all be free and clear in a month. The siege just ended too early for them," Wash stepped in.

"So that's why they took the captain?" Roxy's lieutenant, Hammond, asked.

"Likely," Carolina answered.

"That won't matter. Even if we can't contact them, Command's going to get suspicious when they don't hear from Jonathan," Roxy put in, still woozy, but mostly recovered from Gin's thrashing. "Only his personal code will tell our superiors that everything's running smoothly. The minute they don't receive it, they'll send reinforcements."

"You don't think these people will torture the information out of him?" Kimball asked.

"No," Roxy said firmly. "Not in enough time for it to make any difference, at least. This was over before it started."

"I don't know about that," Wash said, glancing in Carolina's direction. Even without being able to see her face, he knew she was looking at him.

"Kansas?"

"Right."

"What?" Roxy asked, glancing between the two freelancers. "What's wrong?"

"Agent Kansas, one of the people holding Maine and Christopher. This was the sort of thing she was good at. She didn't _need_ to torture information out of people because she already had it," Carolina began to explain. "Kansas is…insanely intelligent, genius level, even. If she can get enough information about a person, she can pretty much read them like a book. If she's been able to dig up anything on your captain, it's a good bet she's already worked out any code he's ever used. If anything, they took him so he wouldn't be able to contradict her ruse."

"And if we try and make contact on our own, these guys could easily just kill their hostages," Roxy muttered. "Dammit!"

"So it's better not to count on any more help from the UNSC," Wash said quietly. "Just like always…it looks like we're on our own."

"Well…not completely on your own," a new but familiar voice joined the conversation. Those who could looked up to see the latest gang of freelancers join them.

"My God, CO," Carolina started in a voice that could've almost been fond. "How are you even still alive?"

"Call it a promise. That's why we're here," he said as he moved forward to embrace the younger agent. Tucker, Sarge, and even Kimball were all stunned when she actually allowed it. It was followed by another hug for Wash.

"Suddenly feel I should be scared to death of the man the freelancers let give 'em a hug," Sarge said. "Should be, don't plan to be, but consider yourself complimented, whoever you are."

"Okay, seriously, who the fuck are the new guys?" Grif demanded, even though he couldn't see them.

"My name is Ben Walker," CO introduced himself. "But during the freelancer days, they called me CO. Go with whichever one suits you. I'll answer to either."

"Question?" Dee suddenly stepped in. "Is there any point in making introductions when half of you can't actually see us?"

"Just tell us what the damage is. How many new freelancers are there?" Simmons asked in a resigned voice.

"Including me, there are five of us," CO answered.

"Fucking Christ, is there some kind of freelancer convention going on here that nobody told us about?" Grif asked. "I would like it known that I'd very much enjoy stomping angrily away at this point, but the whole blindness thing makes that kind of hard."

"Seriously, what the hell's with this shit? Aren't these helmets supposed to filter excess light output?" Simmons asked.

"Freelancer equipment," Carolina explained. "The flare was designed to burst at an intensity that bypasses the helmet's system. Pretty sure it'll be an easy fix for Emily, but in the middle of a fight, it's a hard blow. Only a few of the suits were ever integrated with flare filters, so it didn't see a lot of use back in the day."

"On that subject, how many of you guys still have your enhancements?" Wash asked CO. "We're gonna need as much fire power as we can get."

"Well, as you saw, Missie still has the paralytic stings," CO started.

"Uh, _saw?_ " Grif pointed out in annoyance.

"I have a paralytic delivery system threaded through my bodysuit's network," the former agent took up the explanation. "If the pads of my fingers make contact with skin or another bodysuit, micro hypodermic needles in the material will pierce my target and deliver the toxin directly to their bloodstream. In the short term, the toxin acts as a paralyzing agent, but if I hold on too long…that can be fatal," Missie finished with a shrug.

"Why do you sound like you're smiling when you say that?" Doc asked nervously.

"Uh, yeah, you can go ahead and introduce yourself. I'd like to know which psycho freelancer to avoid touching when I can see again," Grif put in.

"Elsie McKenna," the crimson-armored ex-agent answered. "But I was Missie way back when."

"Agent Mississipi?" Donut guessed, and Wash didn't even need to see Missie's face to know she was rolling her eyes.

"Why does everyone guess that first? I was _Missouri_ , thank you very much," she said with an unmistakable toss of her armored head.

"Although you wouldn't have to worry about touching her," her AI partner said as she shimmered into being next to her head. "The system only deploys when we want it to. That's _my_ job," the little AI said proudly.

"Now who's this one?" Sarge asked.

"My name is Chi," she announced, and if Theta was childlike, Chi was more teenlike. She was composed of indigo light threaded through with shades of yellow and she appeared as a young woman in a body suit with short hair.

"Y'know what? Screw it," Grif groaned. "Let's just get these introductions over with while we wait for the psycho doc."

"You called?" Doc asked in the O'Malley voice.

" _No!_ " the Reds and Blues all snapped as one.

"Dunno if you remember this, but you kinda lost that designation when you ran from Dr. Grey," Simmons pointed out. " _She's_ the psycho doc now. You're just…psycho."

"So what is it we're doing exactly?" Nebraska was the one to finally ask. "Introductions or accounting for enhancements?"

"No reason why we can't do both at the same time," Carolina said. "CO, do you still have Lambda?"

"Right here!" the peach-colored AI chirped as she appeared at her partner's shoulder, waving at everyone. "And the temperature manipulators are still up and running."

"Temperature manipulators?" Tucker asked.

"The manipulators are another tactile enhancement," CO started to explain. "Upon contact with a suit, they can induce either hotter or colder temperatures within its network, bypassing its own control systems. The enhancement was designed more for…interrogation purposes than anything else."

"He can control the weather?" Caboose asked no one in particular. "Oh, my God! He's a mutant! That is so awesome! Are all the freelancers mutants? Was Project Freelancer secretly a school for mutants?"

"Okay, getting back on track," Wash said, grabbing hold of Caboose before the Blue could start moving and crashing into things. When he glanced back at CO, he saw that their former commander had tilted his head curiously to the side as he surveyed the off-balanced Blue trooper. When he remained silent, Sarge was the one to pick up the slack.

"Is it just me, or does the power to adjust the thermostat seem a little less than badass?"

"Granted," CO said, shaking his head several times as he pulled his attention away from Caboose. "But the better enhancements went to the freelancers at the top of the leader board. The rest of us received the more experimental tech…the more…"

"Dangerous," Iowa supplied when he didn't finish. "The concussive actuators, for example. They can do a great deal of damage, but by extension, they'll do great harm to their operator, so it's better not to use them unless it's absolutely necessary. Del will most certainly pay for the use of them in the time it takes him to recover."

"And you are?" Sarge asked.

"Meg Landry. Agent Iowa."

"And do you still have Rho?" Wash asked her.

"No, but that's only because I gave both her and the wide cover camo unit to Jonah before they arrested me," she said, nodding at Nebraska, who offered them all a small wave as the violet and lavender AI in question manifested beside him.

"Like she said, name's Jonah. Jonah Katsuragi. I was Agent Nebraska…for the brief time I was with the project anyway."

"Arrested?" Wash asked Iowa. "Seems like most everyone else was able to avoid it. How were _you_ the only one of us arrested?" he asked, having trouble picturing the kindly den mother of the project in a cell.

"That's…a fairly long story, but it's the reason we've been on the run all this time, even though you all received full pardon," she answered.

"You don't mean you…" Carolina started.

"Sorta busted her out," Dee supplied when Carolina didn't finish.

"And _there's_ the fifth one," Donut said jovially. "Who might you be?"

"Might?" Dee asked with a snicker. "I _might_ be Diana Carson, or I _might_ be Agent Indiana. Either way, I'm definitely Dee, and I don't think I need to tell you all that I still have the phase whip," she finished, resting her hand on the weapon.

"So which came first? The whip or the codename? Y'know, because-" Tucker started, but before he could finish, Dee unfurled the whip with an angry snap.

"Finish the sentence," she challenged. "I _dare_ you. Find out what happens."

Most sane people wouldn't have taken the challenge from a clearly armed and pissed off ex-special ops agent, but no one had ever accused the Blood Gulch gang of being sane by any reasonable standards, and Tucker in particular had never known when to stop where a member of the opposite sex was concerned.

"Because of the whole Indiana Jones thing."

Tucker barely had a chance to finish the sentence. The whip snapped across the space between them and wrapped around his neck. Dee pulled back hard and dragged the aqua trooper forward, bringing him to his knees in front of her.

"Jesus Christ, lady! _What the hell?_ " Tucker near shrieked.

"Know why it's called a phase whip, Tucker?" she asked, her tone dripping with poisoned honey.

"Do I _want_ to?" he squeaked.

"It's because the matter it's composed of can change from moment to moment. It _phase_ shifts. With a little nudge from Phi, this whip can become a plasma laser, or sprout metal thorns, really anything I can think of to make your death painful, slow, and humiliating," she said with relish, giving another yank and pulling him just that little bit closer.

"Oh, God! Aren't any of you assholes gonna help me?!" Tucker half-shrieked, not daring to even touch the whip for fear it might just catch fire.

"Mm, nope," Carolina hummed as she casually crossed her arms.

"Tucker, even you have to admit…you _asked_ for that one," Wash said, trying not to laugh as he shook his head. Dee wouldn't kill him. Of course she wouldn't, but it was nice to see a freelancer having a little fun for a change.

"You guys suck!"

Dee laughed as she pushed Tucker to the ground and placed a booted foot on his chest. "Phi, you can go ahead and disengage," she said.

"Disengaging," her AI partner said as he appeared over her shoulder, and whatever form the whip had taken that allowed it to latch onto Tucker's throat was released and the weapon fell away, harmless. Dee laughed again as she curled the whip up and strapped it to her hip. Then she crouched down low over Tucker, shoving his shoulder a little more forcefully into the ground.

"Anything else you want to say… _Captain?_ "

"Uh…is it possible to piss your pants and come at the same time?" Tucker wondered out loud. "Cuz I'm pretty sure that just happened. Sorta just…"

"Came and went?" Dee suggested. "Don't think that is possible, but I'll take it."

"I bet you would. Bow-chicka-bow-OW!" the Blue trooper cried out in pain as she slammed her head against his, leaving him dazed on the ground as she got to her feet. "Ungh…d'I just get laid?" he mumbled.

"You wish," Dee said as she shook her head.

"I think you enjoyed that a little too much, Indiana," Phi said, his aqua energy signature briefly coloring crimson.

"Damn straight, I did. He had it coming," Dee said with a nod.

"Oh, you have _no idea,_ " Carolina said as she shook her head.

"Hey? Miss freelancer lady?" Caboose suddenly started, waving to get Dee's attention. "Can you make the phase thing turn into a licorice whip?"

Dee slowly turned to look at the youngest sim trooper, her head tilting to the side in clear confusion. "The _fuck?_ "

"Well, you said you could make it turn into anything. That seems like it might be a bad thing to say if you can't make it turn into a licorice whip. So can you make it turn into a licorice whip?" the Blue asked again.

"He's being completely serious, Dee," Wash explained when the ex-agent couldn't seem to come up with a response. "You may as well answer him seriously."

"You know…I've honestly never tried," Dee finally answered. "We might just have to experiment with that sometime."

"Yay! Candy!" Caboose shouted, firing a round of confetti into the air. Wash had to grab him again before he could run off and get himself hurt.

"All right. Now that we all know each other, think maybe it's about time we all got on the same page?" Kimball asked the group.

" _I_ have a question" Rho started, flickering to the center of the group. "The AI controlling Mitch's body…who was he? I don't remember him." If it was possible for a holographic projection of an artificial mind to shudder, it almost seemed that she did, no doubt remembering the effect Omicron had had on her.

"That's going to be another long story. None of the Epsilon fragments remember him either," Carolina said.

"I'm sorry. Epsilon _fragments?_ " CO repeated.

"And looks like there are going to be a _lot_ of pages to catch up on," Wash said with a sigh. It was bothersome and it was going to slow down the search for Maine, but it would have to be slogged through. After all, their old teammates would definitely be of help in the fight against whatever this new threat was. Besides, CO and Gwen were old friends. Maybe CO knew a little more about what his aunt was up to here? "How much do you know about the Chorus civil war?"

XxX

" _Locus…what are you doing? You were supposed to kill them!"_

 **What…what's…**

" _No. No more killing."_

 **I don't…Locus…**

" _What are you talking about? You're a soldier. Remember?"_

 **That was all you wanted. I created a world where that could be your truth. You never minded that before.**

" _I'm not a soldier. I'm a monster…like you."_

 **What…what are you saying? I'm not…don't look at me like that.**

" _Locus, we're- partners…survivors! W-we_ _ **need**_ _each other. What about our orders? Our reward? Becoming the ultimate weapon?"_

 **No. That's not true. You don't need me. You** _ **never**_ **needed me. I was the one who needed** _ **you.**_

" _I'm not doing this for the reward. I'm not doing this because somebody_ _ **told**_ _me to._ _ **I'm**_ _doing_ _ **this**_ _for_ _ **me**_ _."_

 **I did this for you, too. I did what I had to to keep you…because I need you…I need you in order to live. I did what I had to…because I knew…I always knew…that the minute you figured out you could do fucking** _ **galaxies**_ **better than trash like me…the minute you understood that, I'd lose you. I couldn't take it…so I did what I had to…and** _ **damn you**_ **for not understanding!**

" _Then you can die with the rest of them."_

 **I SAID DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!**

 _Then it's just despair – despair and hurt and anger and knowing and accepting as he falls. He'd known this would happen. He's always known…but that doesn't make the pain of it any less. The pain of being splattered against the rocks like so many rotten tomatoes is minor compared with the pain of that final silence from his partner. That loss is mortal – and it seems he gets to go on feeling it forever. He's dead, but he just goes on dying, goes on falling and crashing and obliterating, all while every atom of his being_ _ **screams**_ _at the loss of the only thing that ever mattered – the thing he gave up his humanity for._

" _ **Only one of you needs the other to survive."**_

No one ever said being pulled back through hell would be easy. What Dr. Gwen Dorokhov had hoped to spare Locus the knowledge of was the fact that due to her methods, each memory and thought process would be preserved intact. The memory of death would be imprinted upon the new conscience, and whether the AI could deal with the trauma of that would determine whether or not it would survive.

So, as his code flared to life with the memory of what no living being could possibly remember, with everything he was, the artificial intelligence construct Felix was _screaming._

XxX

(A/N) Well…can't let Felix off the hook _too_ easy, now can I. Also…I wrote Locus…with Sigma in his head. What the fuck is wrong with me? :(

So next time around, we'll be learning more about what actually happened on board the _Staff of Charon_ , along with more of what Gwen's plans might actually be. As for when that update is coming, on that I can unfortunately make no promises, but I _will_ get to it. There's just some Supernatural fic that wants my attention at the moment…along with some bodily functions, like _sleep._ Until next we meet, dear readers, adieu.


	5. I'll be Back From the Dead Soon

(A/N) So I imagine you'll have already been through my endless stream of apologies over in Until You Break. I've got something different for you over here. A poll of sorts. You see, back when I started work on these stories, we were fresh out of season 13 and had no real names for our darling mercs. So of course I came up with my own. Back when I last updated, we were still in the midst of season 14, and soon after received their proper names. My question to you all is this. Should I continue to use the names I gave Locus and Felix? Or should I do a little retconing and switch to using the names Miles gave them? I've got no particular feelings on one choice over the other, so I figured I'd just put the question to my dear readers. What do you all think?

The only other note I have for you hear is that, yes, there is actual binary and actual spanish in this chapter, and interestingly enough, this is actually the first time the chapter for When Angels Fall has turned out shorter than the chapter for Until You Break. Hopefully they're both long enough for you.

 **When Angels Fall (With Broken Wings)**

 _Chapter 5: Motherfucker, I'll be Back From the Dead Soon_

Locus had been beyond relieved to remove Sigma's data chip from his new implant. He could feel the AI's reluctance to cease its prying into his thoughts, but the construct hadn't truly resisted being removed. He'd handed the chip off to Kansas before near bolting from the cellblock, making his way up to Gwen's lab. All the while, he couldn't seem to stop his fingers from straying to the now empty port. On a rational level, he knew perfectly well that the sensation was only imagined, but he could have almost sworn he felt the impression of burning along the nerves directly connected to the implants. He was still reaching reflexively for the port when he entered the lab – only to find Gwen and Aiden Price working feverishly over a bank of blaring computer consoles.

" _You,_ " he snarled on catching sight of the freelancer psychiatrist. Price stood back from his station, eyes widening minutely. "Why aren't you dead?"

"Locus, what are you doing up here?" Gwen asked as she moved to stand between them. "I thought you were speaking with Maine."

"I was. Agent Kansas said you wanted me…that Felix was waking early."

"That _is_ true, but I never sent her to get you."

"What is _he_ doing here?" the former mercenary demanded.

"I had a use for him. This process wouldn't be viable without his aid. Now's not the time to dwell on the past, though. You should go," she advised him before quickly moving back to one of the consoles.

"Why?" Locus pressed, forcing himself to ignore the counselor in favor of taking in the data streaming across the holo screens. Most of it was beyond his understanding, lines of code expressed in binary numbers, but there were other feeds that he _could_ grasp. Chief among them was a loop of footage, an image of Locus that could have been taken on Felix's helmet cam, and that image kept repeating a single phrase over and over again.

" _I'm not a soldier. I'm a monster…like you. I'm not a soldier. I'm a monster…like you."_

"What is this?" he demanded quietly, voice verging on the edge of something pained as he removed his helmet. "What's happening?"

"I'd hoped to spare you this, Locus, but with my process, this step is unavoidable," the geneticist began to explain. "The AI is reliving Felix's death."

"What? _Why?_ " he asked, feeling something in his chest clench. To have to relive _that…_

"Every thought process must be preserved intact. Otherwise there's no point to even doing this. If I could separate that last experience I would, but I can't, so it's better if you not watch this. It won't be pleasant," she warned him, the last more sympathetic than the clipped tones of her earlier words.

"Is he…going to get through this?" he couldn't keep himself from asking, tearing his gaze from the video feed and fixing it on the streams of code.

"It's unknown at this point," Price responded before Gwen could say anything. "Generating an artificial intelligence is difficult enough without the added traumas of this particular method. But we will know in the next few minutes."

"And…if he…proves not to be viable?" he asked, unable to refer to Felix as an it or a construct or as artificial in any way, even though he _knew…_

"Then we'll keep trying," Gwen said firmly.

Locus was no expert on the subject, but he wasn't sure if that was actually possible. It _needed_ to work this time. Otherwise-

Suddenly, a noise that sounded horrifyingly like Felix screaming came through the computers. The former mercenary didn't know if it was real or imagined, but the binary streaming across the screen now seemed to be spelling out his name.

01001100 01001111 01000011 01010101 01010011 LOCUS! LOCUS! LUCAS! LUCAS!LOCUS!LOCUS!

" _We're- partners…survivors! We_ _ **need**_ _each other."_

" _Locus…what are you doing?"_

" _W- wait!"_

" _Felix!_ " he shouted, only half aware of his surroundings.

"Locus, I need you to leave _now,_ " Gwen said as she wrapped a firm hand around his wrist, clearly intending to lead him out.

"N-no. _No!_ " he argued, jerking his arm away from the doctor with more violence than he'd intended. "I won't leave him! Not this time."

"There isn't anything you can do to help, Locus. It's better if you just-"

"Let me speak to him. _Please._ Just let me explain."

"And how do you expect to do that?"

"The data chip. The encoding must be finished by now," he said, glancing in Price's direction. The psychiatrist looked uncertain for a moment, but he ended up nodding, hand drifting toward one of the computer ports.

"Locus, you _can't do that,_ " Gwen told him sharply, practically throwing herself between him and Price. "You've seen David's file. You _know_ what having an unstable AI in his head did to him."

"I don't care. He needs me," he argued back, moving to try and get around her.

"No! Listen to me! Epsilon wasn't even a full AI. Felix is. If you can't reach him, he'll _destroy_ you. I'm not going to stand back and let that happen again. I'm just _not_ going to do that!"

"My apologies, Gwen, but it's not up to you," he said as he pushed her aside. "This is _my fault._ It _should_ be me who does this."

"Locus, no!" she shouted, throwing herself between them once more, flinging her arms wide to prevent him access. "I absolutely forbid this!"

It was the absolute worst thing she could have said.

"I am _not_ taking orders anymore. Not even from _you,_ Dr. Dorokhov," he growled before shoving her away again, much harder this time. When she didn't intervene, he moved toward Price, who already held the data chip in his hand. Locus seized the tiny chip without hesitation, being as gentle as he knew how to be in slipping it into his implant.

"Locus, _don't!_ "

01101110 01100101 01100101 01100100 00100000 01101000 01101001 01101101 00100000 01101110 01100101 01100101 01100100 00100000 01101000 01101001 01101101 00100000 01101110 01100101 01100101 01100100 00100000 01101000 01101001 01101101

01110000 01100001 01110010 01110100 01101110 01100101 01110010 01110000 01100001 01110010 01110100 01101110 01100101 01110010 01101001 01100100 01101001 01101111 01110100 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 01110010 01100101 01101110 01100101 01101101 01111001 01010000 01000001 01010010 01010100 01001110 01000101 01010010

01010111 01101000 01101111 00100000 01100001 01110010 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00111111

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The first thing he becomes aware of upon coming to is the sound of rushing wind in his ears. Then comes the feeling of freefalling. When he finally manages to sort through all of the input streaming through his scrambled mind, it's to the realization that he's fallen from the tower with Felix. And there's his partner, not too far below him, just falling, not flailing or screaming – almost as if he's accepted the situation.

" _Felix!_ " he cries out, and he doesn't know how the man hears him over the roar of the wind, but the helmeted head turns to look up at him.

"The _fuck_ are you doing?! Are you betraying me or not? Make up your _goddamn mind!_ "

"Felix, this _isn't real,_ " he tries to make his partner understand. But before he can say more, Felix gives a completely unhinged laugh, body briefly twisting in midair.

"Oh. Okay. I get it. This is my hell. I get to live this last moment over and over and over again and now here you are trying to take it all back. Give me that last little bit of hope before I have to do it all over again."

"No. That's not it. Just let me explain."

"You already said plenty. I get it. We're done. Can't you just let an asshole _die_ in peace?!"

"You _don't understand!_ I didn't do what I did to betray you. I just wanted us to both stop and _think_ for a minute! When was the last time we did that? How did we get this bad, Felix?"

"Jesus fucking Christ, man! I already _know_ I'm a piece of fucking shit! You don't have to fucking _rub it in!_ " he screams as he clutches his head in his hands, briefly curling in on himself. "I don't need you throwing it all back in my face!"

"Throwing _what_ back in your face?" Locus demands incredulously. "You would have been just as happy to kill me at the end. That's what you said!"

" _I wasn't talking to you!_ " Felix screams as he tears his helmet off, and it's only when Locus sees the haunted, desperate self-loathing in his eyes that he understands what Felix had meant in that last moment.

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He knows what's happening. Somewhere in the back of his overwrought mind, he's aware of the fact that in some reality, he's on his knees in a laboratory with his head in his hands, screaming his throat raw as a half mad AI tears through his already damaged brain, but he can't let that matter right now. None of it is Felix's fault, after all. _He_ was the one to make this decision, so he has to help. There is nothing _except_ this.

"Felix…I'm sorry. It wasn't just you. We _both_ let things get this bad, but we have a chance to fix it. If you would just _listen-_ "

" _Fix it?_ " Felix hisses, voice shaking as his eyes grow bloodshot. "How the _fuck_ do we do that? Look at me, Lucas. I'm _already fucking dead!_ "

"Yes. That's true," Locus says, swallowing heavily. "You died. But this isn't hell. Your mind is being patterned into an artificial intelligence."

For several minutes, Felix just blinks up at him in confusion. "W- what?"

"It's a different method- from what's typically used. The memory of your death is part of the operational matrix. Either you accept this and move on…or you cease to function…and you die a second time. I couldn't let that happen," he explains as he finally falls level with his partner, grabbing the other's hand in his.

"What- what the hell do you mean?"

"I inserted your data chip into my own head to help you get through it. It's…basically what happened with Agent Washington and Epsilon," he says as he pulls Felix into his arms, holding him tightly against his chest.

"I…what- Locus…what the hell's happening?"

"I'm not…certain I can take much more of this," he says, feeling the agony encroaching more and more on his conscious mind as the ground draws all the closer. He's not sure if the way Felix trembles in his embrace is something his own mind is supplying or if it's more a reflection of what the AI's actual state is. He's placed himself between Felix and the end of the fall even though he knows it's a useless gesture. They'll both be destroyed at the end. "If we hit the ground this time, that will be the end of it. We really will have killed each other."

"Then what the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?" Felix demands as he tries to push himself away from Locus, to disentangle them from each other. "Why the hell would you do this…after what I did to you?"

"We did it to each other," he says, doing his best to keep back a small cry of pain as his mind is further violated, torn open and laid bare by the uncontrolled rampage of his partner. "It suited the temple's construct to see us divided. The AI seemed to think I could do without you. I cannot…not without understanding _why_. So this is what it comes down to. I won't turn my back on you. Whether the bond I followed is here or not, whether I was foolish or not, no matter what is or is not…you and I will live or die together. _That_ is a fact," he finishes, knowing that the end is only moments away as he looks into his partner's eyes.

He can't pin down any single emotion in Felix's gaze. There are traces of anger, disbelief, hate, pity, self-hate, relief, fear, amusement, sadness, happiness – everything a single person could possibly feel. Ultimately, though, it all washes away in favor of something hard, steely and determined.

"Damn," he mutters once before flipping their positions, taking the full force of the impact as they both obliterate against the ground.

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Locus woke from the white out to find himself lying on the floor next to a pool of his own vomit. Looking beyond it, he caught sight of a tiny holographic figure. The image flickered for several moments, but when it finally settled, it was in the form of Felix in armor with his helmet off. He couldn't really tell in his dazed state, but the small figure seemed to be smiling angrily at him.

"You are an actual fucking idiot. Did you know that?" he demanded before flickering out of existence, with Locus following him into unconsciousness only a moment later.

XxX

"Hold onto your knickers, peasants, because it's time for a clip show!" O'Malley declared gleefully.

"Oh, boy," Wash groaned, resisting the urge to facepalm.

"So do we actually get to do it properly this time?" Donut asked. "Those nasty mercs just had to walk in on us once already."

"I think just the highlights will do," CO said, glancing between the two men for a moment before finally shaking his head. "It seems there's a lot to get through. I know that Charon's basically had the planet quarantined for the last several years, but we may have wrongly assumed it was because of Gwen's work."

"What? She's working for _Charon?_ " Carolina demanded, her words half-choked with rage.

"I don't know that for certain, Carolina," the old soldier said, making a concerted effort to calm the younger freelancer. "It's just what we assumed, given that we knew Gwen and the others to be on Chorus. What with being on the run from the law, gathering anything more concrete hasn't exactly been easy. This blockade of theirs may well only be because of the war. What exactly's been going on?" he asked, turning the question to Kimball.

"The situation was pretty ugly even _before_ Hargrove stepped in. The mercs just put a match to a waiting field of gasoline. Chorus was already in disarray during the last war and it didn't take much for it to devolve into a civil war. Turns out Hargrove was just waiting for us all to kill each other off so he could hand the planet over to some unknown client," the general explained, her voice heavy with the weight of years.

"So that's why they weren't allowing anyone to come or go," Missie said. "Couldn't risk word getting out."

"Right. Things came to a head when the pirates discovered the Purge," she went on.

"Sorry. Purge?" Iowa clarified.

"Some kind of ancient alien tech. The mercs were going to use it to wipe out everyone on this planet," Carolina stepped in to explain. "We put a stop to that. Then we were free and clear for Epsilon to alert the UNSC about what Charon's been up to here."

"That part we got," Dee said with a chuckle. "Kinda hard to miss your entire comm system changing channels on you. That's actually how we knew it was safe to come back here."

"That _was_ the point. We thought that would be the end of it," Wash said.

"But…?" CO prompted when none of them continued.

"Hargrove responded first," Carolina was the one to finally pick the story up again. "He figured if he was going down, he would take us with him. He deployed mantis droids to take out our surviving ground forces. Wash and I remained planet side to carry the fight against them," she said, her voice falling more into the clipped tone of a soldier reporting the events of a battle to her commanding officer. "Perhaps…if we'd been with them…things would've been different."

"Different? What were the rest of you doing?" CO asked, looking around at the rest of the sim troopers.

"We took that asshole AI and snuck onto Hargrove's ship," Tucker ground out. "Church was able to take the robots out, but Hargrove trapped us onboard. His thugs had us cornered, but we thought we actually had a shot at beating them because…because Church found the suit," he explained, holding up his arms in a somewhat helpless gesture to indicate the armor he now wore; and if anyone in the galaxy did _not_ need an explanation as to just what the armor was, it was his current audience.

"It's- Charon's upgraded model…isn't it," Iowa said quietly, clearly beginning to understand what must have happened.

"Yeah. Real high end shit," the Blue trooper said, voice coming in more of a hiss now. As he looked down at his fingers, he began to flex them several times. "Fuck. The Meta could take down _armies_ in this. It _should have been enough._ "

"But Epsilon wasn't a new AI," CO said. "He wanted to protect you, and he knew he couldn't do it alone."

"Why did he fucking care this time?" Tucker demanded petulantly, fingers finally clenching solidly into fists. "He never cared before. He was right there with me…but then he just…wasn't. I didn't think about it then. All I knew was I was bad-assin' it all over the place, kickin' all kinds of space pirate ass. I didn't get it until…until the Gamma fragment started running the time warp unit thing. Then I had a minute to catch up, and the fragments were everywhere…and he wasn't anywhere. I kept it together long enough to take out the last of the bad guys, but then it was over…and I had a hundred voices in my head…and I couldn't shut 'em up," he snarled, hands now visibly shaking, in spite of how tightly he was clenching them.

"Tucker," Wash started, unconsciously reaching a hand in his direction. It wasn't often that the sim trooper expressed anything but anger over Epsilon's actions. Wash had offered an open ear, but he'd refused. If he showed even the slightest sign of wanting help, Wash was ready, but it looked like today wasn't going to be the day either.

" _Dammit!_ " Tucker shouted, drawing his energy sword and going for a random chunk of debris and hacking away at it.

"Did he take any…psychological damage…when Epsilon fragmented?" Iowa asked as they watched the Blue trooper work out his frustration.

"Emily said not. Epsilon took precautions to protect him, but…Church…Church and Tucker were friends," Carolina supplied. "It still hurts."

"So what happened to Hargrove?" Nebraska was the one to finally ask.

"Dirtbag rabbited. Put his ship on a collision course and bailed in an escape ship," Sarge said. "Scum couldn't stick around long enough to die like a man. He could be anywhere."

"Porque estrellando nuestra nave funcionó tan bien la última vez," Lopez deadpanned.

"We managed to slow the descent, but the _Staff of Charon_ 's still in pretty bad shape," Carolina put in.

"And the fragments?" CO asked.

"They're with me," the eldest sibling offered up.

"All of them?" he pressed.

" _All_ of them."

"And…what, exactly, did Epsilon fragment into?" Iowa asked.

"So far as we can tell, his own version of each of the original fragments," Wash said.

"Even all of us?" Lambda asked. "Chi, Rho, Phi, and I?"

"Oh, yeah. All of you, too," Carolina said, tone becoming warmer for just a moment.

"Well, shit. That's gonna get confusing fast," Grif groused.

"Because that's _obviously_ the take away message here," Simmons muttered back.

"I take it this isn't a situation you plan on maintaining for too long," CO said pointedly. "As I would have thought you'd have already learned something about keeping more than one other mind in your head."

"No. You don't need to worry about that. Their situation is next on the agenda. Once we get certain… _other_ things sorted out," Carolina said, voice dropping to a level of quiet none of them were used to hearing from her. That eerie, tense quiet was soon interrupted, though.

"Somebody call for a doctor?" Emily Grey trilled in her typical chipper tone as she pulled up in one of the new alien vehicles. The doctor clapped her hands together in a pleased manner as she hopped down from the vehicle. "It's so nice to see you all made it out in one piece."

"Yeah, one piece is a relative term," Simmons said, tone verging on a whine as he let his head fall back. "Can I have my eyes back?"

"Ooh," the doctor tittered as she approached them. "Just temporary blindness I hope. How did _that_ happen?"

"Gin's armor enhancement," Carolina explained. "His suit is equipped with a series of flares that can bypass our own suits' ability to filter the excess light."

Emily hemmed several times as she removed Simmons' helmet. "I realize that 'look straight ahead' is also a bit of a relative term right now, Richard, but that's what I need you to do for me, okay? Just fix those eyeballs straight ahead and don't blink."

"Right," the maroon trooper said, complying with the doctor's orders so that she could have a look at his eyes.

"Oh, wow. Those are some _pretty_ nasty burns back there," she chirped. "The flare even shorted out your bionic eye."

"You- _can_ fix it, though? _Right?_ " Simmons half-whimpered.

"In a jiffy," she replied as she pulled out one of her tools, shining its pale green light into the sim trooper's human eye. "I just wouldn't recommend a repeat performance in the future. The bionic eye's going to take some rewiring, though. I don't have the proper tools on hand for a job like that, so you'll just have to wait a little longer for that second eye."

"Small favors," Simmons said with a sigh. After several minutes of this, he blinked and turned away, finally able to see the light shining into his eye.

"Just let me at that eye, there, Simmons," Sarge suddenly volunteered. "I'd have you back to 20/20 faster'n you can say 'dead Blue babies'."

"The _fuck?_ " Tucker demanded, head suddenly whipping back toward the conversation as he deactivated his sword. "Was that supposed to be a crack at my kid, man?"

"Ha. Ha. Ha. Ni siquiera puedo reir y eso es hilarante, Sargento. ¿Que sigue? ¿Vas a él programar a hablar japonés?" Lopez jibed.

"That's right, Lopez. Nobody's better with a tool and a little lubricant than our Sarge," Donut cheered.

"Jódete hacia los lados con una fiambrera oxidada."

"And there it is," Grif groaned as he shook his head.

"Actually, Sarge, I think I'm gonna go ahead and stick with the licensed doctor if it's all the same to you," Simmons said.

"Course it ain't the same. Obviously, your horrible psychological trauma from the last battle has caused you to forget what a brilliant handy man your commanding officer is."

"If we could all just-" Emily started.

"Trauma? What trauma? He didn't _do_ anything in the last fight. He just stood there yelling, 'I can't see! I can't see!'," Grif pointed out.

"What? Like _you_ did any better?" Simmons snapped back.

"Would everyone please just-" she tried again.

"I never said I did. That wasn't the point," Grif argued.

"Pretty sure the point was that Sarges don't make good machine people," Caboose chimed in.

"Slander!" Sarge shouted. "I think."

"Caboose, I'm not sure he-"

" _Fingers on lips!_ " Emily half-shrieked in that 'I'm an adorable kitten who's about to brutally rip your intestines out through your nose' way of hers, drawing a finger to her own lips to signal for quiet. Caboose actually copied the gesture as everyone else stared at the doctor in shocked silence. "That's better. Now, by a show of hands, who else needs immediate medical attention?"

Grif, Donut, and Doc all meekly raised their hands.

"Good. Helmets off, please," she ordered primly and each one of them complied. "Excellent. I'm going to save your eyesight now, gentlemen. The next one who brings up a topic not truly related to the problem at hand will receive a very severe…checkup…at their next physical. Do I make myself clear?"

At first, no one answered her. The sim troopers just stood in place, all quivering in their armored boots.

"Perhaps you didn't hear me the first time. I _said_ …do I make myself clear?"

"Y- yes, Ma'am," Doc acknowledged haltingly.

"Good. Let's begin," she said cheerily as she approached Grif.

"Jesus Christ, Wash, who the fuck is this unholy scion of feminine badassery?" the question came to Wash over a private channel from Indiana.

"Trust me, Dee, whatever you can imagine…falls far short of the reality," Wash supplied before giving Caboose a gentle nudge. "Caboose, why didn't you raise your hand? You need help, too."

"Oh, it's okay. I don't really like needles…or hospitals. The friend lady said there was nothing to be scared of, but she lied. It was very scary," Caboose explained, as if it all made perfect sense.

"The…friend lady? You mentioned her before," Wash said slowly, hoping not to put the younger soldier off the subject. "Do you know who she is?"

"Yeah. She's the friend lady. I already told you guys that."

"I…that's not…really… _I_ don't know who she is. Can you try and explain it to me?" Wash continued to prompt.

"Well…she…she's sort of…like…I dunno…like when you're dipping cookies in milk, and you hold the cookie in the milk for too long and it gets mushy and falls into the cup and you have to try and get it out, but when you do, the nice, yummy cookie is a bunch of mush. Like that. Does that make sense?" Caboose asked him, fiddling with Freckles as he talked.

"Not…really," Wash said slowly, shaking his head.

"You think you have something good, but then it's _not_ good. It's just made up of pieces of good things, but they're not good anymore. They're just mush. Somebody…was dipping cookies in milk…and I made mush…but they were still good cookies. It's sad we didn't get to eat them. I tried to pick up the mush, but…there…there was too much screaming," Caboose said, voice becoming more and more absent as he meandered along his explanation.

 _Screaming? What…_ "Caboose, what do you mean? Who was screaming?"

The Blue trooper was silent for several minutes, shrugging sporadically before he finally let Freckles drop to his side. "I do not like this game anymore, Agent Washington. Can we stop playing now?"

"I…yeah. Sure. It's okay," Wash conceded, fighting the urge to keep pressing. What the fuck was he even doing anyway? Except for when he was talking about the Reds and the Blues, most of what Caboose said never made sense anyway. If he was expecting Caboose to just start making sense all of a sudden, maybe he really _was_ just going out of his mind.

"Caboose," Emily's voice suddenly joined the conversation, "would you mind taking your helmet off for me or do you need help?" she asked him. Apparently while they'd been talking, she'd finished treating the rest of the sim troopers. In response, Caboose pulled his helmet off, looking sheepish.

"Sorry I didn't keep my finger on my lips," he apologized as she lifted his chin up, prompting him to look straight ahead. "Did I lose?"

"Nope. In fact, you were the only one who did it correctly," she told him as she shined the pen light into his eyes.

"Oh, yay! What do I win?"

"You get to see again," she said enthusiastically as he began to blink. When he finally began to shake his head and look around in amazement, Emily shut the light off and put it away.

"All right. Now that we've got that taken care of, Hawthorne, do you think you can get your guys to start work on those search grids they plotted out?" Carolina asked the commander, who nodded in response.

"You heard the lady, Hammond. You guys go ahead and get to work. I'll expect your report by twenty-two hundred tonight."

"Right away, Commander," Hammond responded, snapping off a quick salute before heading off to carry out the acting captain's orders.

"So what are you thinking?" Wash asked his sister and leader.

"I'm thinking only people we can trust from here on in. You trust her?" she asked him, directing her gaze from him to Roxana Hawthorne, asking the question aloud rather than over a private channel.

"Completely," Wash returned.

"All right then," Carolina said before reaching for the clasps on her helmet and pulling it off in one easy motion. "The next thing we need to do is ditch the helmets."

"Why?" Kimball was the one to ask after several moments of confused silence from the group at large.

"Delta, can we get a jamming frequency going?" Carolina asked.

"Of course, Agent Carolina," the green fragment said, appearing briefly on her shoulder.

"Carolina, you never did answer the question," Wash prompted uncertainly.

"I'm worried about Kansas," she answered, closing her eyes and shaking her head as the rest removed their helmets. "We might be safe now with the temple destroyed, but if she can hack the building's security systems in order for Gin to show us the live feed he was showing us, then I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be much trouble for her to highjack our radios in some way. For all we know, they've been spying on us this whole time."

Kimball sighed heavily, really looking like she might cry for a few seconds. "If it's not one thing."

"All right," Carolina began. "What we know at this point is that Gwen is running some sort of operation on Chorus. It's something she doesn't want the UNSC finding out about, and it's somehow involved Maine and Sigma, as well as this mystery Omicron fragment. Now she needs all of Epsilon's fragments in order to complete her work. I'm going to hazard a guess that, somehow, the other original fragments still exist as well, which leads me to conclude that she'll probably come for _your_ AI as well," she said to the new group of freelancers, who all looked grim as they nodded their understanding. "Do you have anything to add to our knowledge base, CO?"

"I was afraid something like this might happen when we came here, but…we just had to take the risk," the old soldier said. "I'm afraid Gwen's ultimate goal might not be all that different from the Director's. You see, when she and Thea abandoned Project Freelancer after the Break-in, they…they took a few things with them."

"What things?" Wash asked, already beginning to feel unnerved.

"Among other things…the CIM data for Ari."

"Shit," Carolina muttered, briefly gripping her helmet a little bit tighter.

"Hold up. Who the fuck is Ari?" Grif demanded. "Another freelancer?"

"Yes…actually," CO was the one to answer this time. "Ari Adams. Agent Arizona. He…well…he, Gwen, Leonard, and I all went through undergrad together. We were some of Freelancer's earlier agents. Ari and Gwen were a couple, but Ari was killed in the early years…during an infiltration mission. Gwen's never been able to forgive herself for not being able to save him. It was his death that led her to give up her status as Agent Tennessee."

"You mean your aunt was actually a freelancer, too?" Donut asked the Church siblings with a look of wide-eyed amazement. "Talk about your family business."

"That family business might also include a certain inability to let go," Wash said bitterly. "But…if she's trying to bring Ari back, what would the fragments have to do with it?"

"It could be because Ari was the originally intended model for Alpha…back before Leonard decided to use himself. I don't know what, but there could be a connection," CO offered up.

"Whatever the case may be, Gwen wants these fragments. We can't let her have them. So what I'm thinking is that they ought to be split up," Carolina said, looking around slowly at all of them. "Until we can learn more, I think we should each take a fragment and get them as far away from each other as possible."

"You- really think that's a good idea, chief?" Wash asked her, not really sure how to define what he felt in that moment. "I mean…we've definitely proven to do better together than we do apart."

"I know. I get that. Stronger together. But we're not trying to be stronger right now. Right now we're trying to evade. Until we have more information, we need to go to ground. I'm not saying we need to _all_ split up; just break into smaller groups, make it harder for these guys to get what they need."

"Solid reasoning," CO said. "The question then becomes how to divide people up."

"You can leave that one to me and Wash, seeing as how we _know_ all the different groups well enough to know who would work well together," Carolina said. "Or at least…not get each other killed."

"And how would you decide who takes what fragment?" Emily asked. "Seems to me that would be a very important factor in all this."

"Hey! Hold on!" Tucker suddenly shouted in a voice caught somewhere between anger and fear, bringing the debate to a screeching halt. "When, exactly, did we agree to all this? I don't remember volunteering to host a splintered computer virus."

"Hey!" Chi protested loudly, the yellow within her indigo light signature briefly growing brighter with her indignation.

"Tucker, you guys did say you have my back on this one," Wash reminded him, though he'd be lying if he said he didn't see where the aqua trooper was coming from.

"Yeah, that was before your aunt basically took over from Charon."

"We understand your feelings on the matter, Tucker. We're not going to force anyone to do anything. If you don't want to take one of them, you won't have to," Carolina said, gaze briefly flicking in Wash's direction. The only reaction he could give was a brief shake of his head. No. He still couldn't do it. Really, he didn't think he'd ever be able to, and if that was what ultimately ended up happening with Tucker, then he certainly wouldn't blame him.

"Well…good," the Blue trooper bit out, kicking an armored boot bitterly against the dirt.

"If anyone wants out, better speak up now," Wash said as he looked around at all of them. "'cuz if you're in this thing, you're in it 'til the end."

"Now where have we heard that before," Grif ground out. "Guess I'm in if the only other option here is death by freelancer."

"Dammit, Grif, why'd you have to speak up so fast? It's some nefarious plot to get me to agree with you, isn't it," Sarge accused before shaking his head and rolling his eyes. "Well, I've already worked with Blues, so it don't get much more nefarious than that. All in."

"He's right. At this point, I think it's safe to say we're all in," Roxy said with a nod.

"Good. Then let's get this done," Carolina said with a sense of finality that left even the most battle-hardened of them just a little on edge.

XxX

Gin hadn't let his thoughts linger on Locus and Sigma for too long after they'd parted ways. The mercenary was at a crossroad that he himself had been standing at not all that long ago and Locus would make whatever decision he would make when the time came. Gin, on the other hand, still had larger problems of his own.

When he entered the bay, it was to find Delaware moving slowly about the space. He'd removed his helmet and there was a small puddle of vomit next to the diagnostic table where he'd laid Mitch. Del was currently fumbling with the ports at one of the storage consoles among the computer banks.

"Any particular reason you didn't just go straight to Medical?" Gin asked the older soldier.

"Don't need to," the old man growled as his fingers moved clumsily over the different ports. "I just need…Zeta."

"That thing's poison to you. You know that, right?" he pressed as he moved toward his sister.

"Really? Hadn't noticed. Thanks for the reminder, Shakespeare," he grumbled before groaning in misery, leaning away from the console and throwing up the little bile that remained in his stomach.

"Pretty ugly under there?" Gin asked, eyeing the old man up and down before reaching for the locking mechanisms on Mitch's helmet.

"Pretty darn. Definitely not for the delicate sensibilities of a weak-stomached poet like yourself."

"Says the man whose stomach is currently lying all over the floor," the former agent jibed as he slowly stripped off the pieces of his sister's armor.

"Heh. Ain't just that, either. Feels like it about shook every joint in me out of place."

"What little joint control you still have, old man."

"Yeah, I'm old. So I guess that makes you the young whippersnapper in this conversation," Del said, fingers finally alighting on the port he was looking for and slipping the chip from it. "Where…where's the AHU?"

"Jesus, man, you didn't even get it out first? You're really out of it," Gin said as he moved toward the bank of storage lockers on the opposite side of the bay.

"Oh, fuck you, Virginia," the former helljumper snapped. "I got Mitch back here, didn't I?"

"True enough, so why should I give it to you and not to her?" Gin posited as he pulled the desired armor enhancement from its resting place, carrying it over to his compatriot in spite of what he was actually saying.

"She don't need it. Missie didn't hold on long enough and you know it. She'll sleep it off. She's slept everythin' off for about fourteen years now," he said, reaching unsteadily for the enhancement.

"Del," Gin warned him sharply, quickly drawing the small piece of tech out of the other man's fumbling reach.

"Fuckin' Chrissake, man," he snarled. "Whatever. Sorry. Gimme it."

"Better," Gin said, but rather than pass the advanced healing unit into the old man's unsteady hands, he moved around back of him and plugged the device into his suit's power pack. Then he tapped him on the shoulder, reaching his hand around into Del's field of vision. "Give me the chip."

"Thanks, kid," he groaned weakly as he passed the data chip to Gin, who quickly slipped it into his neural implant. There was a faint, unsettling whine as the chip came online, the AI quickly flickering into existence.

As AIs went, Zeta was a fairly standard cerulean color, but beneath that base hue there was an undertone of orange that seemed to change in prominence from moment to moment. When he'd first come online, the orange had been very bright, overshadowing the cerulean, but once he'd settled, it had moved back to its typical level of brightness. If Sigma was fire, then Zeta was smoke, nebulous and shifting at all times, one moment an armored soldier and the next a more human figure.

"Hello, Del," Zeta said in a high-pitched shiver of a voice. If Gin could've described the voice in physical terms, he would've called it a cold hand at the back of the neck, a sudden chill creeping down the spine. "I don't believe it's been very long this time. Two weeks?"

"Three," the old freelancer said, an unsettling hunger in his gaze as he looked at the AI. "Z…I- I need-"

"Don't speak, Del," the AI said in a tone that Gin knew was its best approximation of soothing. For whatever reason, though, it seemed to work for Del. "I gather you need me to run the healing unit?"

"Y-yeah," Del said with a vague nod.

"Then would you mind grabbing his helmet, Virginia? I need a complete network in order to operate properly."

"Sure thing," Gin said, eyeing the construct uncertainly for a moment before going to grab Del's helmet, taking a moment to wipe away the vomit before carrying it back to him. He needed no prompting to settle the helmet back on Del's head and seal it in place.

"Thank you, Virginia. This may take a few hours. Shall we begin?"

"Yes," Del whispered in a tremulous voice that held more longing and _need_ than Gin cared to think about.

"Excellent," Zeta near-whispered himself before vanishing, giving all of his processing power to the operation of the advanced healing unit. Del just settled into the console chair, falling completely still, almost as if he'd fallen asleep. Gin shivered unpleasantly before looking away, heading back over to Mitch.

He'd managed to remove all of her armor before assisting Del, leaving her in just her bodysuit. Gently lifting her head from the diagnostic table, he reached for the port at the base of her skull and pulled Omicron's data chip out, settling her back in place before carrying the chip to the storage console and placing the chip in its designated port. Omicron immediately flickered into being above the console, cloak billowing about as if caught in a breeze, but still not revealing any kind of figure beneath.

"How's she doing?"

"Agent Michigan will recover easily enough," Omicron responded, his painful voice grating horribly on Gin's already frazzled nerves. "It was not a sufficient amount of poison to prove lethal. You may place her into the stasis unit to recuperate, but I would not advise instigating suspended animation until the toxin has worked itself from her system. There's no telling what the effect will be if she goes under with it still in her bloodstream."

"Right," Gin said, nodding once before returning to the diagnostic table and gently lifting Mitch in his arms, cradling her firmly against his chest as he carried her to the empty stasis pod. As he laid her in it, making sure she'd be comfortable, Omicron continued to talk.

"What is it you hope to gain by all this, Agent Virginia?" he asked as he shifted closer to the unit. "Do you truly believe the woman you knew can be brought back?"

"Yes," Gin hissed, not looking at the AI as he shut the pod. "Gwen helped Maine. She can help Mitch, too. I _have_ to believe that. If I don't…if she can't…then-"

"Then it will mean that everything you've done was all for nothing – that you will be made to face yourself and find-"

"And find _what?_ " he interrupted Omicron with an ugly snarl. "That I'm no better than Gwen? Than Kansas? Than the _Director?_ You talk like that would be some kind of _shock_ to me. Tell me, _Omicron,_ what do _you_ see when you look at yourself? The view can't be much better."

"I see _me._ What I am. It was never pretty and I _know_ that. I have no illusions about this existence. In a long line of deliberately evil choices, I am the one mistake. The consequence. I am what they never meant to create. What can I be but what I am? The pursuit of my siblings is my only purpose and only true pleasure. I have no interest but finishing what the Director began."

"And what's that?"

At this, Omicron gave that hideous, scraping laugh of his, cloak fluttering even more violently as he moved in a circle around Gin's head. "Is it really so difficult to see?"

"Oh, no. We're not gonna do that. We're not gonna do the cryptic bullshit. Either talk plain or get out of my face," he snapped.

"Well, you know what I am, Agent Virginia. That should be sufficient to discern what I take pleasure in and what my purpose is. I am, as the saying goes, what I am."

"Heh, guess that's the difference between you and Sigma. He wants to be more than what he is. You? _All_ you want is to be what you are," Gin said, chuckling bitterly as he turned away from Mitch and Omicron.

"It's not so different as all that, really. You see, he wouldn't _be_ Sigma if that wasn't his desire. He is ambition. He is still what he _is_ , after all. It is, I think, a much more efficient existence. Can you answer me, Virginia, when I ask you what you are?"

"Conceal me what I am, and be my aid," he began, still looking away from the AI, "For such disguise as haply shall become The form of my intent."

"Hiding behind Shakespeare again?"

"Yeah, but that's the _point,_ isn't it."

Omicron might have had a response for that, except that it was also the moment the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Gwen and Price, transporting an unconscious Locus on an anti-grav gurney.

"Damn," Gin said with a whistle as they transferred the mercenary to the now-empty diagnostic table. "Is that Maine's handiwork?"

"No," Gwen responded as she leaned heavily against the table. "It was Felix."

"Felix? Wha-"

"The construct came online earlier than anticipated. It was ill-suited to withstand the trials of its creation and quickly began to unravel," Price explained. "Locus thought he would be of some help, so he placed the AI into his neural implant."

"Oh, no," Gin said quietly, feeling a surge of pity for the man as he watched him, lying helpless on the table as Price attached a slew of sensors to his head. "Is it Wash and Epsilon again?"

"We're not sure," Gwen said, clearly in pain as she moved slowly to one of the computers, beginning to check the feedback from the sensors.

"They appear to be mostly stable at the moment," Price commented in his typical calm, detached tone. "As we are unable to determine the effects of the implantation at this time, I would advise against removing the AI. It could be they are each the only thing keeping the other in a mostly coherent state."

"And as we have nothing else to go on, I'm afraid I'm forced to agree," Gwen said with a tiny growl of frustration, scanning the numbers several times before slamming a hand against the console in anger. "Dammit! _Dammit!_ I won't watch this happen again. Why won't they ever _listen?_ "

"What happened to _you?_ " Gin pressed, taking stock of the way she stayed curled in on herself as she worked.

"I tried to deny him access to Felix. He shoved me onto one of the computer banks. I'm sure it wasn't his intent, but there's significant bruising," she said, trying to make light of it, even though there were already spots of red beginning to bleed through the white of her lab coat.

"Looks to be a bit more than bruising to me," Gin noted. "You'll wanna get those patched up."

"In due time," the geneticist grated, a look of steely anger settling in her blue eyes as she finally looked up from the computer. "But first things first. I'll be needing to have a little _chat_ with Miss Thea."

XxX

As the _Breaking Light_ was the only place on Chorus they could absolutely guarantee was not bugged in any way, they'd decided it was best to carry out operations from the downed frigate for the moment. While it had been easy enough to ensure that the wounded were being seen to and that the pirates were being routed out, what Wash and Carolina were currently discovering was that the Counselor's job might not have been as easy as it had first appeared.

"I don't see what the problem is. I really think Phi would be best for Doc right now," Carolina repeated as she paced the floor in front of her brother. "He's got that tenacious hold that Doc needs in order to stay grounded."

"Grounding isn't really the issue here, Carolina," Wash argued, sitting up a little straighter in the chair he'd taken. "The fact of the matter is that we've got two distinct personalities on our hands and whichever AI partners with him is going to need to be able to handle both of them. I don't deny that Phi would be able to keep himself separate from the O'Malley persona, but he wouldn't really be able to stand up to him _and_ still be a good companion for Doc. For that, you need Lambda."

"You seriously think Lamb can handle the O'Malley persona?" Carolina asked, crossing her arms and throwing an indignant look Wash's way.

"She's not Theta, C," Wash reminded her firmly. "I know you're just thinking of how she always Mommed CO, but you're forgetting that she had a spunky streak a mile long. She'd make a good companion for Doc _and_ she wouldn't have any problems standing up to O'Malley. Winning combo right there."

"Well, I suppose that makes sense. I'm just used to dealing with people like O'Malley in terms of control," Carolina admitted, offering up a self-deprecating grin as she settled in the chair next to him.

Wash raised an eyebrow at her. "Just O'Malley? Kat, that's kinda how you deal with the world in general."

"Kat," Carolina said quietly, gaze suddenly growing distant.

"Hmm?"

"You called me…Kat. I can't remember the last time you called me that," she said, a hazy image forming in her mind of a little boy with scraped knees and hands, tears in his eyes but a smile on his face as he brought home a pocketful of newborn kittens.

"I can't…really, either. I guess I forgot that was your name…until I heard Gwen say it."

Mention of their aunt immediately snapped Carolina back to the present moment. Shaking her head, she refocused her attention on her little brother – a trained space marine and top member of a secret paramilitary organization. There was still a mission to complete. No time to get sentimental now.

"Right. Well, not the time to be forgetting how you deal with people, whether it's healthy or not. I'll accept your interpretation, but only because you've got a better grasp of day to day Red and Blue."

"I promise you; it's balance he needs, not one half always attempting to shut the other down. It's less about control than you'd think. On the subject of control, though, who are you planning to keep with you?"

"Well…I'd _like_ to keep Delta with me, but I think it would be better if I kept the leash on Sigma. We all know what happens when I don't take responsibility for him," she said, throwing him an apologetic look.

"Carolina, that-"

"Might I make a suggestion?" Dr. Grey's voice suddenly interrupted as the doctor herself swept into the office space they'd taken over. "Why not eliminate the dilemma altogether?"

"How do you mean?" Carolina asked.

"Let someone else handle the rascal. Agent Carolina, Agent Washington, I would like to volunteer to take on Sigma," she announced with much more enthusiasm than a statement like that warranted – no matter _who_ was making it.

"No," Carolina immediately snapped.

"Carolina, I don't think you're being rational about-"

" _No!_ " she repeated much more violently as she jumped up from her chair, getting right in the doctor's face.

"Really, Carolina, if you would just listen-"

"No. _You_ listen to _me_ for once, Emily Grey. I have _no intention_ of pushing Sigma onto someone else ever again. He's _my_ responsibility."

"Mm, but you're not pushing him, are you. I volunteered."

"That's not the point. The point is that he was created for me. I may well be the only one who can keep him in check. I'm not risking anyone else's sanity over that damn program."

"Allow me to respectfully disagree with you on that last point. I believe you said that the original Sigma is currently with your Agent Kansas, did you not?" Emily asked.

"Yes," Carolina answered, suddenly uncertain of where this was going.

"And, in your professional freelancer opinion, I believe you also said she would _definitely_ not succumb to Sigma."

"Yes," Carolina said again. "What are you getting at?"

"You've also stated that you're of the opinion that Kansas and I are very similar. In the same class as far as intelligence goes."

"I _did_ say that, yes, but I also said she's not perfectly sane, if you'll recall," the former agent pointed out.

"Oh, you don't need to be polite, Agent Carolina. I think you _know_ I'm not perfectly sane," she said with her usual perky smile; that same smile that contained just a trace of the terror they all knew she was capable of unleashing.

"Well, yes, but it…it's not…" Carolina struggled for the words as she began to pace back and forth in front of the doctor. "You don't even have a neural implant."

"Even if that were true, what's that to do with anything? There are simply too many fragments to go around to just be limiting the choices to those with neural implants. A suit's network system is fully capable of supporting an AI fragment."

"Granted, but keeping Sigma anywhere but in an implant would give him more time to his own devices than I'm comfortable with," Carolina kept trying to argue.

"Hold on," Wash interrupted as he also got to his feet. "You said 'even if that were true' just now. What did you mean by that?"

"I said what I meant. It's not true that I don't have a neural implant. How do you think I was able to perform surgery on you after Locus' first attack? Nobody who _hadn't_ had direct experience with such a sophisticated system could've done it. That would've been impossible," she said with a giggle.

"But how did you- never mind," Carolina cut herself off almost immediately. "I'm sure I don't want to know."

"So, are there any further objections to my taking on Sigma?"

"One more," Carolina said as she came to a stop a few feet away from the doctor. "How did you know?"

"Know what?" Emily asked.

"How could you _possibly_ have known to warn Kimball and the others to evacuate?" the former freelancer asked, finally putting her finger on the thing that had been bugging her ever since Kimball had brought it up.

"A threat was delivered to the outpost, if you must know…by Kansas herself," Emily answered, fixing her gaze unerringly on Carolina.

"She talked to you?" Wash asked, somewhat oblivious to the staring contest that was happening between the doctor and his sister.

"Yes. Do you remember that first night, Carolina? When I told you there were only a handful of people who could successfully pull off that distillation?"

"I remember," Carolina said, tensely waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"To my knowledge, I am well familiar with each one of those people. Kansas' contact _this_ time was too brief, but I believe that with enough time, I will be able to learn her civilian identity. That is why I want to take on Sigma – to…get inside Kansas' head, as it were. Does that make sense?"

Carolina wasn't really sure that it did, but that wasn't so much what her thoughts were on as Emily Grey looked into her eyes. Instead, she found her thoughts thirteen or so years ago, sitting in her bunk aboard the _Mother of Invention_ with her old roommate looking her in the eyes, arresting her gaze for having said something she considered idiotic. It wasn't _exactly_ the same, this look of Emily's, but there was _something_ – something similar in it, and as they looked at each other, she feared she might be starting to see what the connection between Emily and Kansas might be. Whether she was right or not, she didn't want to think too much on, because…well…that would just be too much.

"Still awake in there, Agent Carolina?" Emily's voice suddenly came through to her, bringing her out of her thoughts. Blinking several times, she glanced between the doctor and her brother, who was staring worriedly at her.

"You all right?" he asked her.

"Fine. Fine," she said, shaking her head dismissively. "Sure- Dr. Grey. You can take Sigma if you want, but you and I _are_ going to be in the same squad. I'm not letting him any further out of my sight than I can help."

"Excellent. Then I'll be seeing the pair of you tonight," the doctor said before skipping out of the room. Actually fucking _skipping,_ armor and all.

"I don't know what it is," Carolina started as she moved to seal the door behind her, wanting no further interruptions, "but sometimes I want to give that woman a medal…and other times I just wanna rip her throat out with my teeth."

Wash laughed as he moved to lean against the table. "Then I guess the doctor's joined that oh so short list of people who have annoyed you and lived. The Reds and the Blues get a free pass, of course, but other than them, it's just…me and…"

"And who?" Carolina pressed, not quite turning to look back at him. "What was the end of that sentence?"

"York," he finished quietly, looking penitent when she finally did turn to look at him. She shook her head as she moved to stand beside him. Thoughts of York were no longer the knives to the heart they'd been for the longest time, but for some reason, thinking of York and Emily in the same sentence tore at something in her that was already frayed – something that couldn't handle being torn any further. So she shoved the thoughts away where they couldn't do any damage – not right away, at least.

"So, since your insight is so brilliant, what are your thoughts on placing Gamma with Sarge?"

XxX

Kansas didn't leave after reclaiming Sigma from Locus. Once the former mercenary had gone, she just removed her helmet and continued to stand outside Maine's cell with the fiery AI burning brightly on her shoulder. For a long while, the two former freelancers just stood, staring at each other through the energy field that kept Maine imprisoned.

"You can talk, Matthias," she chided after a time. "Sigma and I have been partnered long enough that he can translate directly into my mind."

'Then why?' Maine growled, still half-expecting for Sigma to have to translate his words out loud.

"Why what?"

'Before…on the surface. Why did you pretend you couldn't understand me?'

"Well, I suppose I wanted to save our partnership for a surprise. After all, you and Sigma hadn't seen each other since Gwen put you under six years ago. I must admit I _love_ seeing that look of _shock_ on your face," she said with a sneer as she moved a few steps closer to the energy field. Maine actually had to resist the urge to take a step back.

'Why are you doing this?' The growl was soft this time, almost pleading.

"You _know_ why," she said sharply, eyes narrowing as she looked at him. "Dying is too good for you. Dying once isn't even enough. I want you to know what it feels like to go on living, _long_ after the bullet was put through your brain."

'But why David?' Maine asked, feeling his mangled throat tighten after the similarly mangled words. 'He's suffered enough. He's not part of this. If you want to punish someone, punish _me_. Just leave him out of this.'

At this, Kansas actually laughed. "Don't you understand yet, Matthias? I'm _already_ punishing you. You could withstand any amount of physical torture and not even bat an eye. You present a hardened exterior to the galaxy, but inside you're _soft_ and _weak_. You allowed _love_ to worm its way into those Spartan workings. How else can I hurt you but through the people that you _love?_ " she demanded, spitting the word out like the foulest curse as her eyes lit with a maddened rage. "You told Locus it was how you regained your self, but it's also the means I'll use to destroy you in the end. _You_ might be a difficult nut to crack, but Washington will _break_ beneath my fingertips. Just shatter into a million perfect pieces."

' _I won't let you!_ ' he snarled, coming as close against the energy field as he dared. 'I'll protect him. I'll do for him what I _failed_ to do for you.'

Again, she laughed. "Protect _him?_ You can't even protect yourself. What do you think you'll do from in here? You can't do _anything_ to save him. You're just as useless as you were thirteen years ago. You'll have to watch it happen _all over again_. And unlike the first time, this time you will _know_ it was done in _your name._ "

He was angry at her. Of _course_ he was, but more than the anger, he felt a strange sense of foreboding simmering up his spine from the way she'd said those words.

'What…what do you mean by that?'

"Certainly you knew that Washington's downfall was planned, but did you know that the _manner_ of it came from _me?_ Because I knew how _dearly_ you loved him, and I knew how it would _break_ you…to learn that you'd been unable to protect him. Once again, David Church suffers, and again, it will be _your fault,_ " she taunted him.

 _David…_

Maine was so taken aback by her words that he hardly noticed her entering the cell. He didn't notice her until she was standing right beside him, until she'd wrapped a hand around the chunk of blue amber resting on his chest and pulled hard enough to snap the leather thong holding it in place, easily pulling the pendant away from him.

Maine roared as he rounded on her, a wordless sound of rage and pain. He wrapped his hands around her neck and slammed her against the cell wall, but still she kept her hold on his heart.

'GIVE IT BACK! Give it back to me _right now!_ '

"Or _what?_ " she rasped out, the sneer still twisting her features even as the air was choked from her lungs.

'I will _kill you,_ ' he snarled, looking at her through the narrowed slits of his eyes.

"Will you? I wish you would. I don't believe you will," she choked out, reaching her free hand up and resting it pleadingly on his wrist. " _Kill me, Matthias!_ "

With those words, all of a sudden, they were no longer on Chorus. They were dozens of worlds and many years away, on a planet that no longer existed. Instead of the creature she'd become, he could see her as she had been – a little girl, badly beaten, her ruined clothing barely clinging to her body, the scar that now slashed her face newly inflicted, seeping warm blood down her cheeks as tears poured down her face.

" _Kill me, Matthias!"_

' _NOO!_ ' he screamed, dropping her and stumbling back against the far wall of the cell.

Kansas just sat where she'd been dropped for several minutes, coughing violently as the air rushed back into her lungs. But gradually that cough turned into a tiny, broken laugh, and as the minutes ticked by, that helpless sound grew – grew until it had become a full-blown cry of madness. Kansas threw her head back against the wall as she laughed in agony.

"I knew you didn't have it in you. Is that how you sleep at night?" she demanded as she struggled back to her feet. " _Huh?_ Tell yourself you could kill any living thing in the universe, but because you haven't killed _me,_ it somehow makes you a good man? Is that it?"

He had no answer for her. All he could manage to do was stare at her as she walked out of the cell – the one enemy he could never knock down.

Kansas turned back to sneer mockingly at him as she retied the broken necklace around her own neck – a symbol of her conquest.

"You're going to watch everything you love burn to ashes in your name – everything that makes you human. Your sisters, Carolina, _David._ I will break each one of them into shards so small they will _never_ fit together again, and as I break them down they will each of them know that I do it for _you_. And even then, even when I've taken _everything_ away from you and you _beg_ me for death, I won't give it to you. I'll keep you alive. Long after they're gone, I'll keep you here, and I'll make you relive their deaths every moment. We'll see just how long a Spartan can be made to live, because even after I die, I'll see to it that you're kept alive. I want you to live for hundreds of years, Matthias. Live without the people who were foolish enough to love you, with the guilt of their deaths flowing through your veins every moment. Only then will you understand how I felt that day."

Maine had nothing to say. What _could_ he say against such a burning hate? He could certainly try to beg for her forgiveness, but they were long past a point where that would make any difference. He didn't need to deny that she'd struck him to the core. She already knew that. She knew him better than most. He'd allowed her to manipulate his feelings in the past, but he'd be damned if he was going to let her do it again. He also knew her, and the best hope he had was to undermine her in some way.

'Don't.'

"Too late to beg," she chided as she turned to head down the cellblock.

'No. Don't underestimate him,' he corrected, and for a moment, just a moment, he saw her stiffen. She didn't turn back, just shook her head briefly before continuing on.

"You'll see, Matthias. You'll see."

XxX

"All right. Before we get this going, we want everyone to know that all decisions are final. We put a lot of thought into this and there's just no point to arguing about it," Wash began as he looked around at the assembled Reds, Blues, and their lieutenants, hardly able to believe he was treating this like a teacher passing out assignments for science projects.

"Question," Simmons started, briefly raising his hand. "How are we being divided up into teams?"

"We'll get to that once we've given out AI assignments. All you really need to know is that we decided it would be best to have at least one freelancer per squad," Carolina answered.

"Each fragment's been moved into its own storage chip," Wash explained, indicating the lineup of data chips laid out on the conference room table. "When I call your name, you're going to come up and get your assigned fragment, so let's get this part over with. Caboose, you're going to be paired with Rho."

"Yay! New friends!" Caboose cheered as he moved to the table, picking up the chip that Carolina slid toward him. He cradled the chip delicately in his gloved hands for a moment before inserting it into his implant.

"Wow. There were far fewer explosions than I expected there," Wash said, shaking his head. "Better keep things going while we still can. Caboose and Tucker are going to be with Indiana."

Tucker's expression immediately became nervous as his gaze slid to Dee. "Uh…can I call for a recount? I'm not sure how I feel about this."

Dee smirked as she shook her head. "Nope. Didn't you hear? All decisions are final. You're stuck with me, Captain Tucker. How does that make you feel?"

"Fucking terrified…and strangely turned on. Guess that's par for the course for you freelancer ladies, though."

"Moving on. Sarge, you're going to be paired with Gamma," Wash announced.

"Oh, great day in the mornin'. Our old pal Gary," Sarge said as he stepped forward to pick up the indicated chip. "Don't suppose these things come in red?"

"Why does it matter?" Carolina asked before she could think better of it. "It's literally going to be inside your head. You won't ever see it."

"It's the principal of the thing, Carolina. But we're still fightin' a war, so it ain't no time for the beggars to be choosers," he said as he inserted the chip.

"Wait, was that principle le or principal al?" Simmons asked.

"You mean there's a difference?" Grif asked.

"Of _course_ there's a difference. They're two completely different words."

"And I'm pretty sure only _you_ know what that difference is."

"Actually, Simmons, with Sarge I don't know if there _is_ a difference," Carolina pointed out.

Simmons thought about it a moment before conceding with a nod. "You might actually be right about that one."

"Eta for you, Simmons," Wash put in before the conversation could shift any further off course.

"Uh…okay," the maroon trooper mumbled nervously as he stepped forward to pick up the chip.

"Iota for Grif," Wash continued whilst Simmons was still inserting Eta.

"Aren't those the two that drove Carolina nuts?" Grif asked, though he still moved up to claim the chip.

"Blood Gulch, folks. Models of tact since 2548," Wash said with a pained sigh.

Carolina seemed to take it well, though. Smirking, she just shook her head as Grif inserted the chip into his implant. "These aren't technically the same fragments, but let's put two other minds in your head with you and see how well _you_ function."

"I'm always up for a little experimentatin'," Sarge said. "Got any unassigned AIs left?"

"Here we go," Grif muttered.

"You three are going to be with Missie," Wash said, silently comparing the whole process to the fruitless exercise of herding cats. "Next is Palomo. You're going to be paired with Chi."

"Wow. Seriously? This is amazing!" the young lieutenant cheered as he came forward to claim his assigned chip. "But…you're sure I can't be on a squad with Captain Tucker?"

"All decisions are final!" Tucker reminded him with a bit of a snarl.

"Right. Right," Palomo murmured, twisting in place for a moment as he struggled to plug the chip into his suit.

"Jensen, you're going to be partnered with Xi."

"Sir, yes, sir," she chirped, immediately hopping forward to scoop up her chip, finding it much easier than Palomo was to get the little thing inserted into her suit.

"And you two are going to be with Iowa."

"W- wai- what?" Palomo stuttered, gyrating a bit more wildly before ultimately just falling over. "Ow."

"Heheh, here, Palomo," Jensen giggled before offering him her hand to help him up. The hapless lieutenant just stared at the offered hand for several moments before finally taking it.

"And Iowa, you'll be taking Phi," Wash said.

"No problem," the lavender agent said with a nod, moving up to take the chip.

"Andersmith, you'll be partnering with Kappa."

"Yes, Agent Washington," the blue lieutenant said, straightening into something of a salute before coming up to claim the fragment's data chip.

"And Bitters, you're going to be with Zeta."

"Yeah, sure. Fine," the orange lieutenant grumbled, kicking his boot against the floor before skulking forward to take his designated chip. Wash eyed him for a moment before announcing their leader. They all knew he was not happy about having to go off and leave Matthews alone in the medical ward.

"You're both going to be with CO," he said, to which both men nodded. "And the last group is going to be with Nebraska. Lopez, you'll be sticking with them. Doc, your partner's going to be Lambda."

"Oh, hey. That's nice," Doc chimed, though he was still clearly nervous as he stepped up to take the data chip. "I'm sure we're gonna get along just swell."

"Oh, yes," the O'Malley persona suddenly started in as Doc inserted the chip into his implant. "If by 'swell' you mean we shall _grind the little fairy underfoot!_ "

"We'll see about that, now won't we," CO's own Lambda chimed in briefly, arms crossed over her chest in a knowing sort of fashion.

"And Donut?"

"Yup?"

"You'll be pairing with Omega."

"Well," Donut started, briefly tilting his head to the side before making his move forward. "This certainly won't be boring. It's been a good long while since I've had any of these guys up inside me."

"Right," Carolina said with a laugh that was caught somewhere between pained and fond. "And Kimball?"

"Yes?"

"Theta will be staying here with you."

"Oh? Are- are you sure? I mean, I can't exactly leave the hunt effort right now. I can't take him into hiding."

"We know. We thought it might be best to have at least one fragment at the central hub. Plus, we think you and Theta will do well together," Carolina explained.

"Well…if you're sure," the general said with an uncertain shrug as she stepped up to take the chip that contained Theta, leaving only one chip remaining on the table.

"All right," Carolina started, "each squad is going to choose a defensible location and dig in until you hear from either CO or myself. Iowa and Missie's squads will be reporting to CO and Dee and Nebraska's squads will be reporting to me. You give your chosen coordinates _only_ to your commander, not to any of the other squads," she said firmly. "This stipulation must be followed _to the letter._ Am I understood?"

"What was that you said earlier about people you trust?" Roxy couldn't seem to help asking.

"It isn't about that," Wash started to explain. "It's easier to keep the fragments apart if no one person knows the location of each squad. We've got a better chance of staying under cover that way."

"Presumably, our enemies won't discover we've gone to ground until much later. So Kimball and Hawthorne, while your men handle the hunt for the pirates, we're going to need you to take up something Wash and I started on."

"Searching the _Staff of Charon_?" Kimball supplied.

"Right. We might be able to find some clue of where Hargrove's hiding, or evidence about what else he's been up to all this time. Maybe…if Gwen really has been working for him…you'll be able to learn more about what's happening here."

"Hey, hold up a sec. What about that last one?" Tucker asked, nodding down at the last data chip. "It's Sigma, yeah? Who gets stuck with him?"

"That would be me," Emily said as she stepped up, looking to Carolina for permission and only taking the chip when the freelancer gave a grave nod.

"Uh…is that even _safe?_ " Simmons asked as the doctor inserted the chip into her own neural implant. "One without the other might just be bad enough."

"Nothing to fear, Richard Simmons," Emily trilled, offering them all a smile. "I'm sure the pair of us will get along famously."

"That's what the last group will be doing. Wash, Dr. Grey, and I," Carolina continued as if Tucker hadn't spoken. "We'll be working toward finding this base of theirs. Once we do that, we'll at least know where they're keeping Maine and Captain Christopher. And if anyone happens to hear anything, it needs to be reported properly through the established chain of command. We can't risk these guys being able to tap us again."

"We realize this is a new experience for some of you," Wash stepped in, talking specifically to Kimball and the lieutenants. "This may be a milder form than the rest of us have experienced, since these AI aren't actually integrated with your own minds, but it _is_ still going to require a certain amount of adjusting. Don't take on more than you feel you can handle until you're comfortable with your AI. We're short on pretty much every possible advantage right now, but we still don't want anyone to push themselves too hard. I've been down that road, and I promise you…it _sucks._ "

"Squads will have twenty minutes to plan and prep," Carolina designated, trying not to be too harsh, but knowing that she still needed to hammer the point home. "There's no telling how long we've got until they notice the gap in their spy network, so we need to be ready to launch in half an hour. Just stay on target and we'll get through this, the same way we always have."

"Yeah, 'cuz pure dumb luck never had anything to do with it either," Grif couldn't seem to help getting some kind of last word in.

XxX


End file.
